Real love
Is not material in any way.
No material on the Earth
Can describe such
A feeling,
But we find a way.
Consumers
Consume
Love like it is a simple game.
There are more players than any server on Earth
Could ever handle.
But why has it not crashed?
We are still in orbit,
And the world still gives
And gives
Until we pollute its gift of air.
There is no heir
To this planet
Unless the aliens we know
Nothing about
Invade.
Love is in the air,
And we breathe its freshness
And exhale its coal.
Our mouths are devices
To convey love,
But we fall prey
And spit out dust,
Wondering why the world
Sneezes with fear
At the things we do.
Out of all of our fears,
The pollution
That lingers so near
Is the least of our worries.
And we treat it like another day.
Hoping someone else will clean our mess.
No one will.
Our love for each other spans beyond the heart,
And transcends the soul.
Love our planet.
Love ourselves.
Love one another.
Love is the answer,
But we have not yet written the
Question.