False Consciousness
(A Marxian Allegory)
I gave my love
a blood red
rose.
She said she got
a lot of those
From lovers that she holds
more dear.
I’m not her love;
she made that clear.
I know that she oft
loves freely
Or for a small
gratuity;
As I know I’ll love
her really,
I can bear her promiscuity.
She’s not mean with her affections,
I just wish it
were my turn.
She uses cream for
infections --
I’ve heard it said
that love’s flames burn.
(c)Frank Rooney
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