What's in a poet?
A rhyme, a soul, a body.
Maybe not a rhyme.
A string of text.
But there's a lotta love.
A whole lotta love for mankind.
Or maybe the polar opposite.
A whole lotta hate.
There sure is a whole lotta human.
But what's in a human?
I'd say a whole lotta everything.
Because we are all too human.
Infuenced by our genes,
and everyone we meet.
We are the culmination of everything around us,
and everything inside of us.
Call it the ultimate experiment.
Life, that is.
Put us into our niche.
We thrive, in some cases.
React mostly.
And very rarely, we create.
Creation is so beautiful.
The polar opposite?
That's destruction.
There's one thing left.
The in-between and maybe the galvanize-r of.
It's love.
Maybe not from one to another.
But also from one thing to another.
We fall in love with ideas,
and we also do fall in love with another.
You sure know what the feels like.
Me?
Post-modern love is the love I know.
and of love, I know nothing.
From wholesome to the quite personal.
I feel nothing but a bubble.
With one more prick it has gotten bigger.
No longer is there direct contact.
But another windshield.
Another glass.
Another-
Barrier.
