A Man Called Loving

12/03/20

There was once a man called loving.

In all circumstances he loved

But as life took it’s dreadful toll.

Love became fragile

Standing in the distance

Rigid and cold

Bony and shaking

This man’s

Skin so gray

Almost like a ghost

He’s fading

Like Marty’s photos.

This man who stands,

 love personified

bags under his eyes

And a worn winter coat

He stares

An expression of terror

Slowly shifting into indifference 

Or perhaps he’s just no longer there

He’s thinking

Zoning out, staring at nothing

As time passes he slowly lifts his hand

And it seems he’s reaching for something

Something out of grasp

He slowly lowers his hand

His face twitches

Eyes gloss over

He wonders

What was I reaching for?

Love some say, others say hope

But he doesn’t understand,

Love is just a word, 

It never knew him

And yet it was him

Everyone he knew

Everyone he touched

He loved 

So much

He broke

It all lost meaning.

As the years passed

They began to ask,

Who is this man?

This man they once called

loving