Bind

Folder: 
Outside Looking In

I love you still,
against my true will.

Please do not be so unkind,
to place around my mouth a bind.

What makes you the majority rules?
That is made for the class A fools.

My soul is not beneath the ground,
Our consciousness was bred by the same round.

Marriage was meant for caring, lovers,
Not to be left and tossed aside, asunder, under your wicked covers.

Someone thinks it is okay to hang up the phone on others,
In their mind places them up higher, oh brother!

No! It means birthright dictates a cruelty streak,
Forgive the insincere, but sometimes, yes, my friend, you reek.

Let us run between the dry, withering trees, calling out thy name,
Marshland of communication, designed by our Lord is not a game.

Do not walk all over me anymore, tired of the sulky shore,
believe it or not, I shall not eat for hunger anymore.

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