Permettez-Moi De Vous Parler Un Instant

This poem was inspired by one of my favorite authors Jane Austen.
“The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.” -Jane Austen

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

I don’t want love.

Not right now.

People think I’m crazy for saying this.

At least I’m honest.

I’ve never lied to my fellow reader,

Only aspired to be a leader.

I’ve never been one for dramatics,

So I won’t pull the script from life’s attic.

I’ve seen no good examples of what people call love.

How can I trust something I barely know exists?

I’ve seen people together,

Because of duty,

Because of religion,

Because of children,

Because of comfortability,

Because, because, because.

Everyone is always talking about love.

Fuck that.

Do you enjoy a good novel?

Do you like to read?

Do you even read?

Do you enjoy expressing your feelings through the liberating art of prose?

Where is your sense of adventure?

What is your definition of life?

Do you,

Do any of you ever have these thoughts from time to time?

Or are we all destined to the doom that is “matrimony?”

-N

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