Love Is

Love Is

Love is a distraction, a common reaction.
An attraction of the eye, the worlds oldest lie.
Before you start, quit.

Love is pure pain; it’s vulgar and profane.
Simply a metaphor for prisoner of war.
You’re better of without it.

Love is joke, a flat Coke; it’s boring and it’s broke.
It’s an overreact as a matter of fact.
It’s as cold as a witch’s tit

Love is an expense, a devious pretense.
Beyond logic and reason, theatrical season.
A liability not an asset.

Love is complex a regression of y on x.
It’s bad sex repeatedly; it’s media misleadingly.
You just don’t yet see it.

Love is a myth; it’s a white elephant gift.
It’s merely a glitch an embarrassing itch.
Can’t stand? Please sit.

Love is disappointment a fly in the ointment.
It’s grossly overrated, your better off sedated.
It’s always a sellers market.

Love is pure irony, a big "whoopee,"
a simple connotation, get used to masturbation.
It’s time you start to panic.

Love is a loaded feeling better off concealing.
It’s purely fiction, an addict’s worst addiction.
I just can’t seem to quit…

Dammit…

OK, you’re free to make your own decision.
I’m currently writing a revision…

"Love is Consecrated"

I told you it’s complicated.