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Poem

I'd lost count of the times I'd said those words,
Thinking back; should they have been rationed?
Maybe kept only for those times of intimate closeness,
  Were they the times for which they'd been fashioned?

Those moments where love left lust in the shadows,
Not where it just felt like the right thing to say.
Maybe nestled in moments of quiet contemplation,
There have been one or two of those today.

There was something I saw on a social media site,
Under the title, 'An Internet sage speaks his mind',
He’d quoted ‘less than lovers but more than friends’,
A sort of quasi philosophical blind.

In truth I would say, it’s a contradiction in terms,
Or even a get out of jail free pass
for those with commitment issues,
Or for some, because it sounds very middle class.

Born a thinker of thoughts, not a speaker of words,
To a life where he's deemed socially unable,
Would it have helped to be labelled 'damaged goods'
Left in a box, on the floor, under the table?

Practiced words make for perfect speeches,
Polished thoughts make a beautiful mind,
I once tried a combination of the two,
Computer said 'Access denied!'
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