The Man and the Concept

Oh to be loved as a concept, abstract and incomplete
Be it separate from the man; or with some hints of veracity
The man you see is rough around the edges
Made of flesh, idle musings, and mortal fear

A concept is so radically unique
Whispers softly, poetry in bed, on a whim
Or speaks laced with philosophy, the nature of being
Touches you right, every step of the way

Loving a man is work you see
Nothing erodes love faster than the mundanity
A man may not say things always as they are in your head
Or mayhaps complain about the sushi and how the rice is

The boundaries of the man and  the concept stand firmly blurred
You can’t bring to life what never was
For the dead may rise, at Isa’s behest
What never was, can never be, or ever breathe

A concept fades, slowly maligned
In your heart, in your mind, it lingered too far, too behind
Till each aspect of it slowly came apart
The concept may be a man, but not the man you need

The man you need is of a different breed
Needs to be brought home, meet your parents, be the right fit
A broken concept writing poetry is just not it
A man you show to the world, the concept, you conceal

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