Waking up from the Summer of Love
by Michael Doyle

Love is more than sexual annexation,
And maybe that's why some hold vexation,
That's what passes off as animalistic desire
Comes off cold and in need of some fire.

Love and lust are more than curiosity.
Tactless plays at desire hold no chemistry.
It takes the obvious need for connection, 
And it is so much deeper than a juvenile erection.

It seems some find it a fragrant mystery,
The Summer of Love has lost its intensity.
They seek romance and get degeneration,
It's the futility of an enraged generation.

Too often, the elements of romance are missing.
It takes more than groping and excitable kissing.
The dirty hippy generation with their love-ins,
Only got to the commission and omissions of sins.

The question of what love truly is was a question
They only approached with the most juvenile hesitation.
When a generation by and large finds romance just for fun,
The premise of finding love is a stuck fork of being done.

It seems some find it a fragrant mystery,
The Summer of Love has lost its intensity.
They seek romance and get degeneration,
It's the futility of an enraged generation.

Sex, money, and endless mental-health struggles
Are the latest rage, and love isn't in this jungle.
Sadly, love and intimacy bring the truest equality.
Without romance, there cannot be the needed intimacy.

The scripts and cues of the romantic relationship,
Has been lost in the hub where all fall for worship.
However deviant and skewered by what leads to sorrow,
If love doesn't get its mojo back, there's no tomorrow.

It seems some find it a fragrant mystery,
The Summer of Love has lost its intensity.
They seek romance and get degeneration,
It's the futility of an enraged generation.

(c) March 20, 2026   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved