Dear Love

I write now to you
Asking why, 
what I am to do.


I must not sit idle 
As the walking dead,
I must find your place instead,
but men may deride me so.


So then not writing for this ego 
nor this body.
Only you.
And I'll sign it 
From: " "
To: He


Silly fellow indeed, silly, silly.
Then let men deride me so.


Make a place for me,
For I will come in,
Should I be invited.


Let the looters hang outside,
And we will call to them 
In melodic voices:


"Rise up and claim your birthright!"


And they may
Or may not
Let us usher them in
With smiles in their foreheads.