A slow martyr to your white picket fence
Judge, jury, executioner you live
in a sanitized world with one pretense:
You get back precisely what you can give
But you don't understand love can exist
where two hearts had never thought possible
in a world where old souls have reminisced
in memories together --impossible?
Man-made frowns and cliched disapproval
hurt deeply but further entrench my post
into the green grass chopped by disposals
of indifference, righteousness. I chose
to meet him again for better or worse
And love him forever; judgment reserved
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