Now You Call This Living?

Now You Call This Living? prose poem

Photo by karta229477


Now you call this living
?
But what is living without loving
?
And what is love but a verb
?
Nothing more than a misconstrued word,
Taken out of context by the world.

We all strive for happiness
.
And society tells us “love” is the foundation
.
But they’ve sealed it in an unobtainable jar

in which we labeled “expectations”
and placed it on a pedestal so high it gets lost within the stars.

And although I did come from a broken home. And everyone I’ve ever known 
eventually ends up alone.

I still had high hopes.

Hopes that love was not a lie.

I’d find the brightest star each night
,
Make a wish and close my eyes,
Send it to the sky above
.
Wishing someone would prove my theory wrong about love.

But I’ve been proven right again.

The truth is that love is dead
.
As are the stars in the sky
.
The 2nd star to the right was my wishing star,
And inevitably it too
,
Like all the others,

Burned out tonight.

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