Charity Case

Sun, 03/02/2014 - 14:35 -- TorenCh

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I used to think that love was a song that was only sung by pretty girls, no nerds or fat ones needed, just ones that rocked worlds.

Never could I find a woman suited only for me. Dark skin, nappy hair, my built physique is all they would see.

However I pictured roses at a picnic or even crisp sunsets on the beach, yet I was hardly noticed, my voice made the softest screech.

It’s an enormous task staying calm within an angry ocean, and it’s impossible to stop feelings once they’ve been set in motion.

I loved harlots, I shunned angels, and somehow my tears have never brought them back. Like a cartoon character leaving town I wanted to pack my belongings on a stick with one lone sack.

The sack would be empty, for some woman would fill it one day. She’ll give my life meaning, she’ll write me a play.

I’ll actually be the lead, and she’ll actually want a kiss. Our lips will converge and no matter how nervous, we’ll never miss.

She’ll write me letters when she misses me and I’ll do the same. When one of us makes a mistake there will be no passive-aggressive blame game.

There will be admitting who was wrong, and trying to fix what’s not right. Hugs on top of hugs never hoping for another fight.

Alas, dreams on top of reality clouded my world for so many years. Loneliness followed, along with a bevy of tears.

Then I was asked to go out on the field and tackle another man, soon after I was asked to be a caring citizen of the land.

My mother would then ask that I simply be a good son. My brother and sister insisted that I would assist in their fun.

Grandma simply wanted me to do chores, oh she’s as precious as a dove. Yet all this time, no one asked me to be their one and only love.

So I wandered to the next town, still carrying my sack, just wondering when it’ll end, when will Cupid have my back?

When will Aphrodite prove her existence? Will she even hear my voice? Or will she too think of me as just another choice?

A footstep, a stool, insignificant little creature. Nasty face, no godly body, not one distinguishing feature.

I used to argue that my brain and my heart over powered any face they may find. Then I ventured into the real world noticing how I’ve been insanely blind.

Despite all the negative views on the web, or the hypocritical standouts. I’ve found that love is sung by all, and some men, like myself, may receive hefty handouts.

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