In hers a quiet world would she live
Each morning routine an evening of peace.
Sunrise walks with only love to give
a family, her children, her silent release.
His would be a need for truth in her
struggle to be she asked, a simple life
Not this constant caressing a trigger
shoot holes in her wall, cut like a knife.
She would her bootstraps always taut
a world of indifference, a learned trait,
one person is love, another still taught,
feel respect, to watch, might she create.
His was soon to be a battle in his mind
hers a simple ask me to live alone
causing him to feel this constant bind
to know quick, dynamics already known.
Would she, could she, soon enough relent
His own idealism she wanted to prevent.
©️ Thom Amundsen 7/2021