Only a weak man would intrude
on virtues of another.
For a strong man knows that within him
is the virtues of a woman's birth.
And with out them, he would be nothing.
Those that intrude on the innocence,
have a weakness not of man
but of value and are neither of morality or humanity.
But the sinking ventures of humanities folly.
For all of creations bindings are
but a creation of before.
And even those that are pure some are always
damaged to the point of sorrow.
Never guise all under one brush,
because each is a different stroke.
And some are just not meant to be allowed
to paint a canvass.
let alone a memory upon another's ever
changing innocence.
