There are times
I suffer
the burden
of this love.
Intolerant
of the
ignorance
I detest,
despise,
despair of.
Have you
awareness
of that
which
makes me
wish to
flee
from your
failures?
Devouring
what is left
of respect
I attempt to
repair,
retain,
remember.
Oblivious
are you
to the
obvious
obstacle
overpowering
the remnants
of strength
once
sustained
by our love.
Sacrificed now
for pride
by refusal.
Nonacceptance
abounds
and surrounds.
If only
you'd eyes
to see
past the
blindness
you've chosen.
Life would
be lived.
Love would
abound.