You may argue I am beyond all saving trace.
You may suggest I have no word to write what I do.
But I would counter – as soldier in and soldier out – you have no right either
to put me in my place.
My place is one of humanity not chronology.
Yous started the game,
You light a fire, and like a wire to a fuse, yous
knew what would happen.
I have lived without love for thirteen years.
I can learn to live without its bendition for
another thirteen more.
“Why this – and not that?” you might
very well ask.
“Why that –
and not this?” I would
damn well retort!