Poem

The world is too complex, My Love.
and minds, too twisted;
and lips, too black
that mean, not what they say
and kiss, not whom they love.
and hearts, cold
that pump blue blood into blue blood
and hundreds of tricks up hundreds of sleeves.
and hundreds of faces behind each.
This is not my game, my love.
and that scary world - not mine.
I can't tell you everything, for words are all so empty now.
All I know, and all that I believe in, is that one simple truth that I love you.