Do not write of Love

Do not write of love until you are thirty
Until you have worked the nine to five grind
And found yourself a loving mate to come home to at night
For anyone younger than that cannot understand
What passionate fires are awakened in the course of
Love so that when they write the words will not fall on deaf ears

Do not write of love until you are fourty
Until you have held a child that is yours in your arms
And torn out bits of hair in fruitless fustration at the child that you
Continue to chase around the house with jam stained cheeks.
For anyone younger than that can not understand what the protective
Love a mother feel when they go to pen the words that might be writen here.

Do not write of love until you are fifty
When your home is now silent
And it feels like your heart is slowly being rekindled to
Life by the smile that you see in their loving eyes,
While children that are yours and aren’t yours
Send in echos of playful laughter from the outside
For anyone younger than that can not understand what is like to
Fall in love with someone all over again

Do not write of love until you are sixty
And your years are well behind you as you
Sit on the porch wondering what is left of your life
Until your spouse gently coaxs you on a trip around the world
For anyone younger than that can not understand how sweet love
Becomes in age, like a fine wine they have to wait to taste.

Do not write of love until you are seventy
And standing by their grave silent as tears falling
Unchecked from eyes to water the flowers on the grave
Wondering if you could have made the time you both had last
Longer than those last few days that you were give
For anyone younger than can not understand how much it hurts to have
Loved and lost.

So my dear poets do not write of love
Youngesters have no cause to write of love
We who can be lovers, sisters, and mothers to friends and
Those who are closer than family in our young years because we
Have yet to sample its passionate fruit, its forbidden pleasures that
Sends tingles down the spine all because we are too young
To know what love truly is and fall into lust instead
Or so that is what we are told.

Therefore my dears remember as you sit with pen in hand
Waiting for a muse to gently tickle your ear and spill words
Onto your page, do not write of love for we can not truly
Know what love is yet.

__________________

So I guess this poem was just writen out of annoyance of being young and people thinking because of that I am not able to love. I know that a lot of things my age group does doesn’t inspire confidence but stop judging those of us who are mature by the low standards they have set.