I can’t express the things he does to me;
Not telling feelings true, I hide my thoughts;
And as I cannot speak the things I feel,
Instead I find I’m saying what I ought.
It’s not as though we wrote the rules of us:
A contract in accordance with a bond;
No more, nor less, no reason for distrust;
We cannot split a kingdom once we’re gone.
Descending into madness leaves me blind;
With horror mainly happening offstage;
And if we spoke our hearts the way we find,
Perhaps we’d see life imitate the page.
For now, ignore the youngest daughter’s way;
And only speak the things we ought to say.