Love Hurts

Her's was a story so oftentold

Of hopelessly hopefulfutility.

Blinded by love she did notforesee

That he would be gone before

Springtime was done.

Men are such animals,

Grunting and rutting,

Breaking the rules of politecompany

Until all that is left

Is the cheap pick-up line

That lingers in anguish

Long after he's gone.

 

No moral dilemmas,

No great philosophical edicts

Are written to which headheres.

No conscience to bother,

No groundswell of feeling

Comes rushing to make anemotional plea.

Only the bodies he leaves inhis wake

To languish and drown in anocean of tears -

Waiting for someone to throwher a lifeline -

As he sails the trade windsof tropical seas.