True Love Poem by helena masiello

have ever you remember the years
of happiness masked in unending jeers
of onlooker scorn who want what is found
inside yet are souls wrought from the ground
the formidable love we've yet called are own
as we wove a tale from which were to rome
and ever the blossom one reads and finds
the kind so romantic with yet open minds
for ours isn't forced no perfect the chance
just to simple people caught in a dance