I do not always have the most original approach,
It's not like there have not been others here before,
Star Crossed Lovers:- A tale of the African Romeo and Juliet,
The end of each other is what we would be,
What you think is an prayer answered,
Turns out to be this tragic love story;

I need not take time with this thought,
Or go back to the beginning before cupid took that **** shot,
And how we tried effortlessly to outrun his arrow,
Yet directionless you stumbled on my smile,
And mindlessly I fell into your hello,
That for us was the beginning of the end..

Suddenly there was clarity in your mind,
As if before that moment you had had no other thoughts,
Suddenly there was serenity in my heart,
As if before that moment I had felt no other feelings,
Opening ourselves up to each other like a pair virgins for the first time,
Watching this film of love unfold right before our eyes.    

We know that here we will always stay,
Forgetting any other home other than this,
Here in each others arms,
Watching the stars burn through the ******* sky,
Like two junkies with needles in our arms,
Feeding each other this poisonous drug,

This portion they call love, give me just a little bit more
You hold the torch and I hold the lighter,
If they try to come closer then let's set this castle on fire,
And after that, if there is still no place for us on this earth,
Then let this poison run through our veins,
Let this toxic love lead us to our graves.

Is this love?
Trying to pull each other in a wreckage,
Giving up,
Giving in,
Laying there,
Ready to die!

Is this love?
Allowing ourselves to be tossed around in this tornado,
Breaking up,
Making up,
Waking up,
Caught up!

Is this love?
Our hearts linked together by a single thread,
Lying,
Crying,
Fighting,
Not even trying!

Is this love?
Laying in our bed of broken promises and dreams,
Sad,
Hurt,
Crushed,
Lonely!

Crack! Crack!
We must have such bad luck,
Luck?
****,

It must have been Jack,
Who broke my heart first,
Followed by Hank,
And Frank with the red Merc,

**** luck,
I know I don’t want jack,
From the hank that drives the Merc,
Pieces of my broke heart,
All over this tarmac,

Bad luck,
Dial 911....
Ambulance red, paramedics say I may be dead,
Head not in the right mindset,
Heart beat.....bleeeep! Bleeeeep!
This heart no longer has a beat!

Am sorry that’s not what I meant,
It’s just the auto-correct,
This new technology thinks it’s ahead,
Replacing the words that come from my head,
with words like "You are my best yet"
When what I meant to say was "meeting you I regret"

And that last text I sent, telling you how I felt,
That too was auto-correct,
See, there was a time when your words made my heart melt,
And the butterflies that rose from my belly up to my neck,
I sometimes needed  to tie them down with a belt,
All this words you say you never meant.

Every time you sent that I love you text,
Now I know it just auto-correct
This new tech is quick to make us forget,
And replaces words like I regret,
With stupid texts like “come hold me”
Leaving us with broken hearts we now hold up like trophies,

The rest of the world may never know just how much I hurt,
Because I found a filter that will auto-correct
This frown on my face and turn it right side up,
And every time I take a picture,
This auto correct will add color and remove the hurt,
Making sure no one will never know what really lives inside,
"this whirl we call home, spinning out of control.”

Cracks,
On the once beautiful oval oak framed mirror,
From a hand that once so soft and tender,

Anger,
The fuel that runs this almost empty body,
Burning through my blood veins like a snakes venom,

Pain,
From the bruised hand that had a conflict with the mirror,
But even more from a broken heart that can no longer feel,

Or heal,
Ripped out of my chest, ready to be laid to rest,
Love is life's great test, one I have failed at I must say,

I Lay,
Here in a pool of my own regrets,
Swimming through memories I would rather forget,

Protect,
This delicate flower they call a heart,
Yet your promises and actions do not match,

Trust,
In man I can never, for their words and actions not longer match,
It was never love, for you I was just another summer crush,

Alas,
Here we are at last, with my bleeding hand and broken heart,
And all I can say is
Goodbye,

Letters are old school, but I guess so am I.
In a way, I guess that is true,
I sometimes feel like I am an old fool,
Stuck in the Motown groove,

The 21st Century is not for me,
Waiting a minute before I can hear the next song,
And when it eventually comes on it's one filled with hate,
And let’s not even talk about trying to date,

They said to leave a message after a beep,
For my old soul that means a beat,
That brought with it dance and heat,
Words and rhymes and a drumbeat,

See back in my day, a letter meant waiting on the mail man,
And not looking for blue ticks from an app I got from an online store,
It meant post stamps and asking friends to proofread,
It meant punctuating every line so that you knew without you I could not breathe,

Being in love was not just words and play,
It meant dancing in the street; we called it grooving,
Not sweet talking and lying,
The old fool in me is tired of trying,

Am not saying that you are lying,
But you are in no way trying,
To meet me in the street,
Or groove to a Motown beat,

I wish you were sending me flowers,
While you were out there spending time,
With worlds that were not even meant to be real,
My old soul needs more than one-off dines or drinking box wine!

See back in Motown, when a man loved a woman,
He could not keep his mind on anything else,
He did not put a little loving on her, or shelve her
It meant the whole street knew her, and even knew her favorite beat!

I have known only one other of your kind, the sweet-talking guy,
You have me down on my knees wondering when you are going to leave,
That is not love, I don’t know what it is,
Feels like it, but this is something else!

These tears she cries could float a ship,
The loneliness that fills her heart runs way too deep,

The miles between them is sky wide,
The time between them is half a clock,

Strangling the framed picture she misses him,
His tiny little hugs & his melodious laugh

She even misses the noise,
Mostly she misses his voice,

She misses the way he smiles with all his teeth out,
And how he ***** his middle and index finger when he is zoned out,

She often struggles with her choice,
And wonders if he will understand why she is chasing this dream,

Her hearts prayer no man understands
One more day apart will drive her mad,

Everyday she falls further apart,
"You doing it for him" she reminds her breaking heart,

"Us against the world" she always said to him
Now she wants to tear it apart to play with him

She misses her child,
She misses her son!

It's 10 am and I have already said over a hundred good mornings,
And I will say a couple more before they turn into good afternoons
And then into good nights,
I say them to a lot of people most of whom barely say them back,
Heck am lucky if they even try to make eye contact,

I understand,
They are probably having a bad morning,
Or they having a long day,
Or they have been sitting for hours in rush hour traffic,
But mostly they just look sad, a couple of them need to lose some fat,

I watch as they struggle to ark their lips into a smile,
And the dark glasses they wear to hide the windows to their souls,
I see them as they quickly walk on by,
Always in a hurry! Am sure some wish they could fly,
Some look like they have already tried, others like they are just about to die,

Some are always chasing after their puppies,
One of them actually has husky,
That he calls dusty, Or maybe he told me rusty,
Shouldn't matter its still a husky,
His furry best friend, wait a minute I think he told me his name is Charlie!

One of them did talk to me this morning,
I had to step back since his breathe still had the smell  of whiskey,
I check the clock, its still morning,
But I understand, I heard him and his wife fight this morning!
About how she was looking at  guys in the gym or something,

"My life really *****" he tells me, "My wife is going back to her ex"
"But still wants me to pay for her frozen eggs, and be her best friend"
When did this even become a trend, frozen eggs and being best buds with your ex?
I feel his sadness as he tries to accept his sudden life events,
I want to say this things happens that maybe its for the best,
But I just look at him and nod my head,
Because deep down all we need is a friend.