Love was a silly dare.
Because it involved care.
When my lover began to not care,
She embraced it. Love is so much care
That we love it when love is no longer there.
She runs from me. I am care.
That was love, but that was where
The burden was, the heavy burden of love and care.
The memory of that bright affair
Is all we have, in our dark care.
And so that was my doom.
She got up and walked into another room
And saw how easy it was
To surrender to joy that involves no love.
Love is a burden because it is care,
And when the burden fades away,
We see why love doesn’t like to stay.
When old age starts not to care
And feels the burden of life fade,
It feels the attraction of the shade,
And then love leaves love,
And happily we see good move;
Good goes, which caused us pain,
And we lie opiated, and let all things fade,
Too lazy to be good, or explain.
She smiles—but feels so much hurt,
Poems are her only means to flirt,
Short, wise poems on the Internet,
To those she hasn’t kissed yet,
And never will, because far away
Her readers sit—and love, it may
Want things, but the burden of love can never stay.
The child grows old, and poems will say
The burden, love, will fly away
Like anything that wisely goes
Before it sees the dying of the rose,
Before it sees the dying of the king,
Who cared too much for everything.
You loved me, but there was too much care.
Love was just a silly dare,
Though I was bold, and you were fair,
As fair as the fairest flower—
Which burdened the ephemeral eye for an hour.
