you won’t know what love is (a poem)

You won’t know what love is until you hear the blues,

‘Cause that love you love to talk about, baby,

That’s old news.

You see, it’s not about holding hands

And it’s not about the kisses

And it’s not about making plans

To be somebody’s Mrs.

You will never know what absolute bliss is

Until your heart dances to the subtle romances

In the notes and cues

Of blues.