Poetry.

I wrote another poem today. It has come to my attention that in doing so I am constantly absorbing the concept of love and spewing it all over the page, even if that is not actually my intention.Privately in my pessimism I have decided that I know nothing of the sort and that I am like an fictional novelist. Dare I say that I despite my being perplexed by the concept of love, I actually know nothing about it. I see it in other people, observe it, absorb it and to a point envy it. I do need to grow up. I'm like a child. Poetry is supposed to be a reflection of beauty. I feel like I am disgracing the pen writing about this subject I really know very little about. My capacity to love is infinite, however I need to capture some lyrical realism. I need to stop believing in humanity to the point of ignorance.   


I am a child.