From A Faked Surface

My love is complete!
I do not offer pieces of it to please.
What is felt is spoken.
And the affect of it given,
Is not my purpose or intent...
To disrespect or offend.

And...
If my love is received that way,
What I am given in return...
Has to be crumbs conveniently scraped,
From a faked surface.
To be eventually dismissed.

My love is complete!
I do not offer pieces of it to please.
If that is what you are accustomed to doing...
You will not know true love with me.
When I give it,
It is with all that I have...
Blemishes, flaws and regrettable moods.
To correct...
But never to hide.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!