The Question

what is love, love
is a long night
you pacing madly
in my mind, I

have felt it, but
I have felt it carefully
held it gently
with gloved hands, this

question, I have
answered by losing
it, letting it softly
walk away, and

I have seen more
questions than stars
in the mad broke eyes
of grandfather, let

it go, pass by
the guitar man on
the corner, a mother
smiles at me, she

has already forgotten
me

will you?

by Ben Paynter

Comments (1)

They will forget if you don't do something they remember. Then again, it's difficult not to make a memory out of yourself for pple. Still a fan of your deep and non-evasive insight, Ben. This one is no exception X's and O's