A POOR MAN’S LOVE (Swinnertone)

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Mirror on the wall,
today I come before you a man and a beast.
A beast they see but a man she sees,
A man they see but a beast she sees.
Penniless, homeless, hurt, tortured.
I have a vision, though I say.
What else could I offer you both thy eminence?
You used to wrap yourself in adulation.
Like a blanket,
but it was the cold you loved.
The sharp shivers that uncover the corpses
reveal their true identity.
A graveyard of mistakes,
a viperous snake with its fangs ready to strike,
ready to devour off the humanity in me.
But in proclivity, you fooled me well,
sweeter goosebumps as prince charming,
slip one glass slipper over your little toe,
a perfect fit.

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And what might I serve you thy eminence?
But frozen was the snow in your heart.
Norah Ephron once wrote men and women can’t be friends because sex always gets in the way.
Well, not every man nor woman.
One glance at you,
and I was trying out my last name with yours.
The little I had I devoured to share with you,
for what else could I give you,
Except for my heart
They say there is nothing as genuine as a poor man’s love,
For he gives knowing it’s all he has.
And Yes, a stalker I became.
But who wouldn’t?
A body with no limit,
the deepest of deep,
the highest of high.
The hair a braid is no more than shining hair!
Words danced upon your lips so harmoniously,
silent when no strings attached.
And the fine smooth texture,
with curves that could rob a man’s attention.
It is like you existed and,
at the moment,
seemed like a dream.
I took my time and studied you well.
Walk before you run, so they say.
But in the hands of the angel,
I suffered to understand love.
Every evil story starts with love.
All I have I gave,

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but it still wasn’t enough.
What I’m I to offer princes whose house I serve as a servant.
You tore me a part whispered words of torture to an already bleeding heart
“You think everyone is damaged because you are damaged
You love damage so much you’ve made it your full-time job,
and it turned you ugly.
What is there to offer a woman if not wealth, luxury, and a lavish life
I am not planning to ride and feed on the vision.”
And from then,
a piece fell from my heart as if it no longer belonged there.
I was just another man seeking to be loved.
But I was a poor man seeking to be loved.

This is Swinnertone’s Poem. Click on the provided names and other contests below to view other Notable’s content
MIC The Life Student’s Poem
Bard Mwendwa’s Poem
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3 thoughts on “A POOR MAN’S LOVE (Swinnertone)

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