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Poem

The exaltation of my depression controlled my free will
Sensing the elusiveness of a thing called Love
feeling the high and the low of it
I expected the low to go away but it didn't

Only a lingering memory of my once felt freedom remained  
like a burr in your pants, Love makes your butt itch
it seeks to become a part of your being
and no matter how much you scratch the itch

It becomes a part of you   
occupying your total being
even affecting your eating habits
and your bowel movements

This Love thing devastates your senses
and destroys the flowery fantasies you had of it  
even gender is not immune to the demands of Love
old age is not as much fun as some would have you believe  

As it still hungers to satisfy the Love need
at a time of diminishing ability and male prowess
passion leads one to sacrifice everything from ego to humility
even pride

Giving it all up to satisfy this other thing you feel
the need for passion that burns your loins 
Love, oh Love, why are you such a confusing pain
to take me away from my carefree home

And from my mother and father
to turn me into a mother or father
to bear unbearable ungrateful children
The destroyers of Love

And the bane of the drinking class
giving no respite to lovers of love
but one can't deny after your life is lived
and looks back on itself

You'll carry your babies 
and children in your heart 
till death takes you away
to a more placid place.

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