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Poetry:  All That Glitters Isn't Love

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All That Glitters Isn’t Love

 

Man is a fish, cast in the ocean,

Tortured by current, waves, and motion,

Forced to consume whatever abounds,

To quell his hunger, and quiet its sounds,

 

Only with food,

Shall he survive,

Food such as love,

To keep him alive,

 

He sees it quite often,

Food all around,

But he also sees hate,

Tracking hunger’s telltale sound,

 

To choose love’s way,

To flee from the hate,

May simple far to simple,

Unless one tries the bait,

 

It is often there,

Looking far to good,

Dangled as love,

Under hate’s black hood,

 

So many have chosen it,

So many unsure,

If only they’d noticed,

The glint in the lure,

 

The glint was a hook,

Dressed in love’s garb,

The hate resides there,

It forms the hook’s barb,

 

For once one is caught,

The fraud is in light,

To escape hate’s hook,

They must put up a fight,

 

Few, if any, return to the light,

Some, shall fall prey to horrors out of sight,

What then, might be, the cost of such strife?

Just a piece of one’s heart, a trade for their life.