Love's labour lost

A Poem by silverlocket

Spoken poetry! What is the point of loving someone if they are just going to leave? Is there even a point in trying? (spoiler - YES)

Love’s labour’s lost?
Love may be lost, yes,
But love’s labour is not lost
unless the loss of one love’s labour
begins the loss of labour in every new love
Thus losing a labouring lover
and any future love he may have laboured under!

For love’s labour is never truly lost,
for as long as that one lover
is able to labour beyond the loss
To find one new love,
and to labour under that love,
until it is, ultimately, lost.
As all love, that is laboured under, eventually becomes.

Lost.

Yes, all love eventually labours away
but the labour under that love,
Toiling in the warmth, as if it were the sun above,
is that ever truly lost?
the bonds that we make,
the memories that we create
to shape ourselves by the power of loving
and the hardship of labouring,
is that lost?

I don’t think so,
See, I see labourers, at a complete loss
when the love, which they thought never to lose, has been lost
lost in themselves, they find,
to the love they had been blind
and not seen the damage,
the cracks they had not managed
to fill,
The rot they had to managed
to kill
until the whole structure, now decayed,
is but swayed
in gentle wind
and falls.
never to be recalled
into that seemingly perfect state,
staining a seemingly clean slate
with something seemingly dark and cold
the price of which they had not known
until everything in their possession had been sold

All that love, lost.
all that labour, lost.

All that love’s labour lost.

I disagree,

Of course, you may not agree with me,
that is your right,
if you so wish to go find yourself some good moonlight
and fall to your knees
crying, if you please,
that you’ll never recover
from this, the labourer’s lost lover

But see, these labourers,
(who may not be so inclined to slog
through a dramatization of an Shakespearean monologue)
will go on to love again,
so is the tragedy or comedy of life’s playpen

And although the loss of love and structure
has seemed to put into their heart a puncture
this new hole they’ll fix
to become stronger than before - piles of sticks
that will only help to strengthen the camel’s back
(hopefully not push them to despair by the ex-girlfriend stack)
To strengthen the labour of their new love
Which is as divine as heaven above
(for as long as they’re in it anyway)

their intelligence, their patience, memories of past histories
becomes a saviour, in teachings
to allow you to fix things
When the love in which you labour
seems too little love
and too much labour.

Thus we grow as we love and lose
increasing of intelligence of the choices we choose,
until we find that perfect love that we so hope to know
(that may not have been perfect 10 years ago).

we have grown from our labour, this labour we thought was lost,
allowing us to be strong enough
to find love which is stronger
than all of us.

Thus

What I now understand
although love may be labour
and love may be lost
and although the labour of lost love may have a cost

to the lost love’s labourers
No love’s labour is ever truly lost