Member Rara Avis
This is an oldie, posted in response to a thread currently running in Philosophy 101 (and relevant to one in the Prose forum).
I hear a song and wonder why
The writers dupe and poets lie,
Why love is such a chronic theme,
When poets and the singers team.
The measure placed on what we feel,
Becomes too small, becomes unreal,
When all the truth is washed away,
And love is just a tired cliche.
The songs are flawed and movies err,
And books are often as unfair;
Despite what artists write and sing,
True love is not a common thing.