I saw a twenty first century man
I saw a twenty first century man
who knew three or four or five girls
intimately well,
like a tribal chief;
but not all
at one time.
His heart was shattered
time and time again,
like mosaic
with little patches
that love brought to him.
Every time he loved
as if she was the only one
and yearned for the durability of stone.
poem by Gert Strydom

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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