The Eighteen Year Lie

If thy lovest long And thine love be pure Hate and love be twine Love is strange, rest be ‘sured Thus love maketh the blind Whether infatuated with a cow of a lady Or an ape of a man Of rich Or of poor Love be an experience, of this we can be sure Time doth pass And day turn unto night Fight after fight With each routine apology After years of continuing genealogy Partners be exhaust Love be faux concrete Only for the children With traits of your heredity Small innocent feet seek identity Love be genuine and true Love is as the toughest of glue If only for the children