The Love Song of Thomas Howley
Darling dearest, my cliché,
My procrastination and
My secret shame
I thank god for these days with you
Of which every one’s the same
I get to wake up next to you,
And never feel lonely,
Your body curls into mine
Like our lives
A compromise of peerless proportion
And I know you want
More than I can give you
But you chose me
We who’ve traded comfort and routine
For saying what we really mean
Knowing the drudgery of my day
Is matched by yours
Is the ugliest sacrifice.
You endure
And I’ll still say you enchant me
As you’ll say you like “my quiet passion”
I smile knowingly
At your dinner slops,
My love never declared
From parapet rooftops
See that’s how you make me feel;
Always barely good enough
But never needing to be more
Like my boring routine
a sacrifice and thankless chore
And thus dear sweet love of mine;
I hate you beyond compare
And I will continue
Year after year
Because I’ve settled for second best
Just as you have darling,
So the fake smiles you wish were real
And the way you’ve forgotten how to feel
Are the trades you made into
Our mutual market marriage IPO
Remember when we met, sweet love of mine?
A friend introduced us.
I thought you were hot enough
And I was interesting enough
And lies to compromise
Were small enough
Two carats, two kids, one mortgage
And I will never leave you
Because you’re almost reason
To justify my no longer looking
Because I’ve traded too
For in this routine of you and me
Of sometimes feeling almost free
Amidst this monotony of us
And this weakly weekly lust
Comes knowing you’re a traitor too
Still just comfortable with you
So I can pervert this way to write
Pervert emotions and pervert fights
Yet I don’t even care to see you naked anymore
Because we feel there’s nothing more
But me and my mutual market whore
The same
A poem on monotony
Moderators: The Heralds, The Loremasters
A poem on monotony
Totally completely a pimp