This next poem is one I wrote recently for my poetry class and just before I posted it, I saw another blog with a similar question being asked, but their poem is way different from this one so I can post mine. Besides, mine was written first.
The One Question in All the World I Hate to Hear the Most.
I was asked, “Why do you love me?”
by my dreamy-eyed romancer.
It’s such a simple question,
but it’s oh, so hard to answer.
In fact, most certainly any
way I could address it
would indicate its life is short, but
I‘ll try to unsuppress it.
If I give examples, just
pick one and you’ll see,
“Because” must be the starting word,
and that’s what tortures me.
For men, I’m sure you gals will find,
aren’t good at things like that.
And love should be eternal, so
“Because” just falls down flat.
“Because you are so beautiful”
is hollow at its best,
for beauty’s not eternal;
old age lays it to its rest.
“Because you make me laugh so much”
is worse yet, and it’s lame;
for should my sense of humor fail,
so would my love in shame.
Because your cooking’s wonderful”
isn’t what she wants to hear,
for in my East side neighborhood
good restaurants are near.
“Because…” is not a good reply, for
whatever follows it,
could be undone eventually, then
where is love to fit?
“My love for you will always and
forever will it be
enraptured by your sweetness. It
enjoys your company
over any other, dear, and
let me add one thing:
without you near, I’d slowly die,
my love would take its wings and fly
to where you are, and from afar
its memory of you would sing.”
* * * * * * * *
