Detective

What do you do when love is torn,from you . . .god?

A crime was committed get the detective, and gets a clue.
forensic evidence, at the end of every tears sentence
The lacking of essence seems to be the end of every sentence.
Hope of comforting words which are scared to face this world.
I see neither remorse nor empathy you the truth your not concerned.

and why would you be
Lost and crazy
the herb in my pocket saying … "hey mr would you please blaze me?"
angel wings as we pass a gate.. I must be high
the chipped parts of sculptor congregate

i simple love to complicate raw used to the food on the plate

In the shape of hearts how else can we feel in this world its never to late .
the detective found love, not hate
we pick the crumbs out the plate
there was not much...  but all ate

“child” Gerald Munengami