Tony Bush Poet Verse

Romance Is Dead

Whoever said romance is dead
  sampled of my pain,
with face dejected, cowed, neglected,
  reason drove insane.
For I have slain the heart and brain,
  incinerated black,
and all that's sacred seethed with hatred,
  stabbed receding back.
As it bled from severed head
  and putting out of eyes,
left nothing save an unmarked grave
  to signal where it lies.
A jagged knife this quiet life
  where little comes to pass,
so toast the bones of vagrant clones
  and smash the empty glass.
Whoever said romance is dead
  may well have thought me bad,
no more perturbed, no more disturbed,
  remorseful, sick or sad.
So never mourn the dying dawn
  of bogus love's decay,
for in the end my so-called friend
  it's better off that way.

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