An Unseasoned Love
It\'s spring again,
a walk through the park
brings memories of us
in a past time. You’re a member
of the biblical chosen people,
me a goy with ebony skin.
We were never free you and I.
Looking over our shoulders
making sure no one was passing by.
Frustrated, we would hide.
But we hid from ourselves.
It was always; just understand
there\'s not enough time.
The little time we had
was enough to starve us of love.
How I miss the winter.