Lust love lost Poem by Vincent Onyeche

A series of L
For four foolish word love
Perfect if the puzzle is solved

Like ball and socket
Down the street, they fuse
That was then.

Now,
Their love is a rubber
Beside the red-burning fire 

They call themselves liars
On scattered louver and
Love-crossed affection
 
Lust is the seducing low-tune voice
Love is lurk, waiting for lost
When the liberty bell rings
For freedom and independence
The deep voice scares
The tact-mild voice that keeps
We all know the series of L