Untitled

Too much soppy stuff
Too much pain
Not enough love in the air
Nothing to gain.
Except the rain
That falls as tears
When one is alone for many years
With no one to yearn for
No one with which to dwell
So we fight and we kill.
Who's fault is that?
Not mine
Not yours
Just the person who rejects our love-
Our pure love
Ahould take the blame
And feel the real pain.

25/07/93