A suppressed guilt wakes me up each day,
Reminding me to confess about it and take my way.
I know it will be for you, mere dismay:
I have no intention of hiding it, yet cannot say.
At this point in time for you, I feel,
You conventions intend to stop you from getting to the real;
Its high time we, in fact sensible strike a deal
It’s better to think our way than see for others, what does appeal.
A promise that you made still resides in my mind,
That a friend for me you would be, still... I’m tying hard in you, to find
Our relationship of sharing the same blood puts my thoughts again on a grind,
a fake chain of emotions do nothing but help this idea rewind,
Ultimately I know not, if with my decision you will be kind,
I confess not as I doubt if our age and conceptions can ever bind.
