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Post by twistedangel on Mar 10, 2015 2:21:12 GMT -5
Look attcha bleeding or bleating about this 'Love' A fantasy sold by Hollywood as corporate now as your clothes
Butterflies are but fleeting all are dead by winter to rot upon the ground your 'Rom-Com' aint gone..it never existed
Greed an lust, desire for more the unobtainable her or him Blind to wots somtimes in front of your nose go write it in another shitty prose
Love is not about YOU
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Post by vincentaugustemanet on Mar 10, 2015 11:23:54 GMT -5
For a moment, Imma just ignore the 'correctness' of the perspective, and assume the author and speaker are one. The ramble and delivery match quite nicely a clearly against the grain antiheroish approach. I really like clothes butterflies and rot-rom-gone-ground plays.
As far as the message, I'll just say I have a different opinion and that it ain't love who is the copy of hollywood.
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Post by LonelyForsaken on Mar 10, 2015 15:02:05 GMT -5
I love the last line the most but the entire poem strikes the nail that is the bane of my romantic existence. There is no “us” anymore.
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