Junk Gypsy (Part 2)


Swimming in a pool of junk, we find our own value.
In a mind full of bad thoughts, we try to relax, create, & delight.
Next thing you know, we’re building beautiful mosaics out of our broken pieces.
We are successful pioneers over our negative thinking.
Call us what you want, but I like the title “junk gypsies.”
We’re constantly cleaning up what we have tainted.
Hello, I’m a junk gypsy.
No, I’m sorry, you can’t love me.
I want to, but love is contaminated.
Didn’t you hear?
I guess not everybody picks up on this pollution.
I’ve affected love with a bad quality.
But that doesn’t make being deeply loved by someone undesirable.
This kind of love gives us strength to keep going.
We’re also aware that loving someone deeply gives us courage.
This kind of love gives us the bravery to stand out and be outspoken.
We’re well aware of the powers of love.
But we’re all too much filled with junk.
So we roam around saying this is who I am.
Like it or leave it, I tiptoe around love.
I see if there’s anything I can recycle.
Turning bad into good once the terrifying memories hit.
Taking on these old decaying thoughts to conquer them.
Forever wallowing in the junk that love brings.
I’ll stomp through the junk like I’m a warrior.
My open road will be the soft tissue of my skull’s organ.
All over my brain, I’ll be a wanderer.
Then maybe one day this junk gypsy will fall in love in real life again.
Because we can’t give up on love if tainted is just a hidden title.
We must write new words with our yellow highlighters in the Sun over what has been written.
Label me a dreamer.
Label me what you want.
But we’re all junk gypsies at heart.
Sorting through the junk to find what we want.
Is it too much to ask that we all reach our desires?
I don’t know we’ll only find out if we keep on wandering.
I’m not trying to say I know how deep & dark your suffering was.
All I’m saying is that’s where beginnings can happen.
So come with me I can show you the way.
We’ll travel through the junk back to the gypsies we were.
Steal lyrics from Fleetwood Mac, but change the tense of the verb.
Only because this modern generation is one lost in space.
We don’t know the answer to love because we never answered the question to who am I?
We fell into the abyss as impatient teenage dreamers.
We left life to find the answers.
But maybe we were just trying to discover who we were.
No one ever really told us what love was.
So we set out to find out for ourselves.
Maybe your story is things went too far.
Or maybe you were just plain out tired of getting broken hearted.
I don’t claim to know how hurt you were by love.
Nor do I know how deep your scar from love is now.
I’m only making the suggestion maybe this is when magic can fill your heart again.
Now you know what love is not.
So try to move along with me to find out what love can really mean for us in life.
Be a junk gypsy with me bouncing off the walls to recycle & value what’s been broken.
All I’m suggesting is this can come in handy when you want to start rebuilding.
Not letting the norms of each generation silence the individual, for we can build new paths.
We could have seven billion plus and counting junk gypsies un-tainting love in this World.
And that is this poet’s only true promise.

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