They say the young ones don’t know what love is
(or what love was)
back in the day
of stolen glances,
inked words in parched
papers, reeking of
innocence and simplicity
of a bygone era
laden with warm,
lilting words which
tilt hearts and heads
towards the buoyancy
of love and youth.
They say it’s all gone now, in this fast-paced,
(i-Everything) world
where the machinery
of love and loving
is alien to the old,
to the lovers of yesteryears,
who waged and raged
against odds, against scorn
to give birth to
the youth of today
and yet, the same flesh and
blood don’t speak the
same words, or make
the same vows.
We, the young, the strong, healthy bodies and limbs,
drink a different concoction
of love, made out of
various material ingredients,
purchased from Amazon,
with bits of the latest Apple gadgets,
a dazzling sprinkle of De Beers,
and the hallmark of today’s love
-Hallmark cards and gifts.
Who needs romance?
Who has time for gestures?
Who notices hand-written letters?
Who has the time to remember?
Or to be reminded of moments?
They say the young ones don’t know what love is
(or what love was)
We stomp our feet and say this is what love is: Manufactured, hassle-free, next day-delivery, (and gift-wrapped?)
