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Love died without dignity




I'm not sure what I'm unsure about,

I don't know what I don't know or doubt,

What I do know, and this I know to be true,

The love I give is just not enough for you.


I can't care about things for which I have no care

Won't share with others who similarly won't share

What I do know, is our need for mutual respect

For you, the love I give is less than what you expect


I struggle to understand the ununderstandable

I have little faith in faith. My belief is shakable.

Whilst I'm insecure, you seem more confident

The love I give is surely not what you want


We disagree on the trivialities of life

Endlessly bickering couple, old man and oldwife

I find myself often deflecting and defending

For you, the love I give is the reason for ending


Once upon a time, we'd kiss, make-up passionately

Now we just turn our backs on each other frequently

We've both lost the desire to look at love with leniency

Our love died an undignified death today: So easily.


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George Orwell 1903-1950

Young man. E. A. Blair. Literary genius An uncommon flair. Each page, inspired, His soul laid bare, Dystopia pondered From his polished wooden chair. He wrote of men Who lived without a prayer, P.S. B

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