Let's not give the bastards another chance

The best kind of lovers do not plan

Nor pre-empt every single warring kiss;

They relish the risks of being human

And gather strength from the threat of weakness.

Like the way the poet’s pain reshapes his heart

Sharpening the point of his bulleted words,

Or when our childish dreams are pierced, each hurt

Somehow leaves new visions to leap towards.

We know now how needs mask the face of love

While beauty hides from predators who feed

Themselves on that light lit but quickly snuffed

By careless hands, pride, neglect, or conceit.

But lets not give up passion for romance

And lets not give the bastards another chance.