And Was There Ever This One Great Love Affair? Poem by Mark Heathcote

There are aspersions in this life that cut to the bone
But I am not flesh or bone to be amended or censored.
I am simply a conscious being haunting a body
That has, till this present moment, been craving me.
But just like the contents-of-a-conch-shell, I too,
Will be long gone soon, left wondering to myself,
Does anybody still bother to read me? Perceive me.
And was there ever this one Great love affair?
Or did I-just-somehow fall on my sword?
With ten thousand teardrops unforgivingly on fire
With no friend or Great love affair in the end.