Or the idea of it,
Who wants to be alone?
I'm a freaking poet for God's sake,
Miserable like Bukowski
And romanticism like Neruda,
Together that makes me a hopeless romantic.
Then kick in Valentine,
Will you be mine?
How bout you or you,
No dude not you,
And love is like a berserker picking flowers
Chopping petals off with
A war ax, delicately and dreadfully.
Love, what is it?
Where is it?
And being alone don't help worth a ****,
But I know one thing,
It makes for some interesting deep
Poetry,
Though I'd rather be with someone
And in love counting the ways......