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To Her, I Am Just 'Moe
To most, I am Maurice-but to her, I am just 'Moe';
To most, I must explain everything, but with her, we both just know
What the other is thinking, at any given time:
We could not live OUR dreams, until we were both prime!
With others, I am quite the enigma;
With others, she must face a perceived stigma
Attached by those, who know not, our ardor:
This is a posit, with which we care not, barter!
With others, the love needs further explication-
With others, there lives varied negative sentimentation-
Yet, with us, nary does there exist doubt;
Any that may linger, we cast it out!
poem
by
Maurice Harris
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