This poem was random that I wrote a few days ago. I just forgot to publish it. I honestly don’t have much to say about this poem, all to say that it was based off of an idea that I was thinking about a few days ago. I’ll leave it to the reader. Comments are open.
To All the Virgins
You thought
This was that.
That it was
All of what
You thought.
Is that love
Or just
Another way
Of expression?
To handle
That responsibility
Is what
You tend
To neglect.
Is this
What you wanted
To hear
I thought not.
You thought
You felt pleasure
When you really
Felt pain.
Amusing
You were just
Dead wrong.
Where this
Love
May be intense
Who knows.
But forgive me
I forgot
To laugh.
Do you
Still care?
For I don’t.
This is all
Just a part
Of life.
One continuous
Stupid
Thing.
Strangely
You thought
It was
The truth.
When it was all
Of your
Imagination.
When it sometimes
Only brings
More trouble.
And to handle
Those troubles
Is an insanely
Sickening responsibility.
To All the Virgins
Think of what
I’m saying.
It’ll get to you.
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