Young Writers Society

Home » Literary works » Poetry » Satire

Commercial Love

by Threnody

Hand me your love,
she pleads
As she holds out her hands
And begs you to love her.
Her eyes are cold
And her words are a
Desperate love song
That doesn't mean a thing
 Hand me your love.
Her reach is crooked,
It grasps your pocket not your heart.
She laughs uncomfortably
As she closes her fist around something hard-
Your love...
It doesn't mean a thing.
 Hand me your love.
      What have you done?
Sat here and waited.
I will give you me,
All that I am.
She offers nothing.
She doesn't mean a thing.
 Hand me your love.
      You don't love me, nor I you.
Sell me your love.
      A deal made of nothing, the strangest of deals.
      I give you my heart,
      But not my love.
     Only my heart,
      It doesn't mean a thing.

Note: You are not logged in, but you can still leave a comment or review. Before it shows up, a moderator will need to approve your comment (this is only a safeguard against spambots). Leave your email if you would like to be notified when your message is approved.

Is this a review?



User avatar
84 Reviews

Points: 1764
Reviews: 84

Sun Mar 18, 2012 6:01 am
amygabb wrote a review...

I really love this poem. I think you did a fantastic job on the voice and flowing rhythm. As well, I think it is good that you repeat "Hand me your love" at the start of each stanza. Like Snoink said, you show us the difference between giving someone your love compared to your heart. I think this poem will connect with many teenagers because we don't always know the difference.

User avatar
3746 Reviews

Points: 2212
Reviews: 3746

Sun Mar 18, 2012 3:47 am
Snoink wrote a review...

One of the most curious lines for me was this one: "As she closes her fist around something hard-" And, this is going to seem a little strange, but it struck me the most because I was wondering exactly what this hard thing that she was grabbing in the pocket actually was. Was it a material thing or something more abstract?

Or maybe that is exactly what you meant. That what she was grabbing on was only material, but you are more than material. In your poem, you repeat over and over again that her love means nothing. Perhaps you mean that there is nothing substantial about her love. Her love is not of you, per say, though you would offer yourself up for sacrifice if you could to gain her love, but rather about the material things that you about you. She doesn't care about you. She cares about what you can give her.

Similarly, you contrast what she wants out of love with what you want out of love. You don't want love to be a material relationship. You want it to be more substantial than just what it is about her, You want it to be more meaningful. You want the love to be something more than whatever may be material. In brief, you want her.

The problem is that she doesn't want your love. She just wants your heart -- going back to the material gains. She doesn't want you, she just wants you in pieces.

You want her in everything.

So yeah! Interesting poem. :D.

If a nation loses its storytellers, it loses its childhood.
— Peter Handke