In the genes

Love left her there, love left her here,

and so she travels place to place

to test this usual norm

but love’s desertion so entrenched

she knows it’s in the genes.

Not in her genes, oh, no, no, no,

but in the one who cannot love

or will not love not ever, ere,

for fear invaded and conquered

the blueprint of his soul.

And there’s no magic here today

to fix the torn and tattered

and so into the after-life

goes the now ill-fated. 

To wander there not as before

forever searching for the lost

must surely be a bad outcome

for one first made intact. 

But I just sigh, again, again,

for what the world has torn apart

remains to be forever more

and follows like a shadow does

in the light of knowing more!