Can love ever be wasted?

If the answer is no,

Where does it go

When you don’t take it?

Does it cover the land

With flowers and weed?

Does it rise to great height

And clings to dark clouds

To fall hard on distant roofs?

Or it loiters at home

Clasping my lungs

As I pray for fast sleep?

And with each breath

That feels like the last

(As if I knew)

I ponder and muse

What happens to love

If you can’t find its use.

Can it be drowned in tears?

Sent in a letter to a terrorist?

Given to a suicidal neighbor?

Or it becomes a white elephant

with clumsy paws smashing the silver?

A Trojan horse just bearing war?

And what happens to us

if yes is the answer?

                                                       ©Chris Ritchie