Love Poem: Brotherhood of the Blank
Jason James Avatar
Written by: Jason James

Brotherhood of the Blank

Hi, how are you, my name is blank to your sight just another passer-bye,
Nice to meet you, others of your gentle gender call me Mr. Blank,
Since to you all my name matters not nor the tears I cry,
Apparently an odor insidious I exude therefore I must conclude by my tumultuous stank ,

Forgive us, those of the blank kind, as we shuffle along,
Our self-imposed martyrdom seeming only by this the attention we might receive,
Your kith and kin's secondary stare, giving us that look all are wrong,
Thanks for the pretense of a moment thought we finally in her we could believe,

Empty were our blank hands, to your kind we reached out to,
With your venomous dejection our fodder the callous rejection and dismay,
Our shoes sullied, the laces untied, the wounds uncovered, introduced to agonies anew,
Farcical the hopes fraying the breaking ropes with one empty hand you returned 
back to us two blank again the dullest day,

Our blank desires that us you would want more than just in what our wallets contained,
The mistakes turned our once hopeful hearts blank back to the game of waiting for not,
Nothing and none perhaps if ourselves perfect we could clone an Adonis with no blemish or 
stain,
Hair so thick, muscles of flexion a perfect complexion easy on the eyes for all you gold 
diggers a worthy price bought,

To the blank left turn we thought could escape your promises broken,
Your happiness thought we could obtain by sacrifice and time,
You first before us of the Brotherhood of the Blank only requirement to join is upon 
rejection's tears in which your dreams destroyed and stolen,
Us the slime you all have, are, and will be making us feel no vindication possible  
or paroles release from this cultural crime,

Either right, straight, up or down did the blank ones leave,
Trod they tried a history they could no longer defy back to the shadow's grave,
Metaphorical and deplorable this Brotherhood none may find any reprieve,
The power of pain and the agony of shame no Mrs. for this Mr. Blank to hold from life's 
languid game she desires not him to save.