Love takes nothing I don't freely give -
so let the poets sleep guilt free.
Though they tell shameless lies
and unwelcome truths,
they can't grow roses on the moon.
A poem won't cure cancer
or stop a middle-aged man
from being a bore.
Poetry can't make me see
what I would rather ignore.
And I choose to ignore a lot:
how that look on your face is smug;
or how you're the salt of the Earth
and I'm the slug.
Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief
First published in Scarlet Leaf Review
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