Bizarre

Bizarre

This compulsion we feel

To judge another

Though we’ve never met

before.

To sort out

Rule out

Affairs undoubtedly his,

Only his.

Bizarre

This entitled feeling

This plague

This nonsense

That makes us

think

Our feelings

Matter

More

Than the ones

We’re shaming.

Bizarre

How something so simple,

So physical.

Sex.

Age.

Race.

Can make us think

Instantly

Their

Love is

Wrong.

Bizarre

We think we get

A vote.

In something

So beautiful,

So natural,

So right,

Because we can’t see its worth.