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Is different from any other.

For the young lady, the young man,

It’s a different sense.

A feeling only some really experience.

Young Black Love is natural,

It’s not planned or pre-arranged.

It happens at moment’s notice,

And at times, ends just as fast.

But still the experience to love

A Black young man for a Black young lady

Is something her heart will never forget

and if her love is , he won’t forget either.

Whether it be going to the “Friday night parties”

or spending Sunday evening in the living room.

Talking every night on the phone about nothing

Or listening to Roberta Flack and Donny Hathaway.

Black, young love is unique.

Together, hip, bad, and a good thang.

If you got it, keep it!

If you don’t, get it!




There comes times

when nothing needs to said

and silence fills the room

and everyone understands

The almighty brain

producing millions of waves

that can’t be seen

but felt very strongly.

This is good

that people can feel each other

without one word being spoken.

A natural communications.

I hope that we will continue in this way.

Not to always speak of love,

but to feel of love.

To feel of love, to feel of love.





We were friends at the beginning

The way we should have stayed.

Changing the friendship to “love”

Was the game not to be played.


As friends, to each other, we talked.

As friends, each other, we understood.

As friends, insecurities were not raised.

As friends, we laughed; it was all good.


Then we tried to “love”.

We tried romantic expression.

We tried a different kind of intimacy

But were taught a painful lesson.


The laughter stopped.

The joy and friendship too.

For reasons we could not understand

We could no longer be two.


Not many things are certain in life.

Love isn’t guaranteed to the end.

Choose the one you want to love carefully

But never “love” a friend.



Originally written circa 1972, Revised 1/2014




You say never “love” a friend;

And I totally agree.

Your method’s tried and proven.

I know.  It worked for me.


You see I “loved” a good friend once.

And once was all it took.

It left me with an emptiness

I never really shook.


I never thought I’d “love” again.

I thought my life was through.

And when I thought I wished to die

I took the tip from you.


I realized life was beautiful,

I didn’t want mine to end.

But never again in my life

Will I ever “love” a friend.


M. Jackson

Originally written circa 1972

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