Years gone in the moments to come,
Yet drawn longer, forced by some.
Blamed thrice for vice of victimed virtue
And boasted on by emptied value.
Questioned and accused non-stop,
Laced with venomous love to top.
When one asks for what's rightfully owned
A cowered stance logically shown.
Contradictions in every avenue
Always ready to rake in revenue.
All at the expense of four not one
Fought out solutions fun for some.
Every separation to cost in tears
For choices made in vengeful fears.
Nothing more precious left to hold
When coldly framed for taken gold.
Now to end the war of roses
In real life, not in poses.
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