History Hates Lovers

They say,is the history we learn fully true?
What did they call eachother,through and through?
And historical books say friends,buddies.

And whatnot.
While the true term slowly fade and rot.
Friends,sidekicks or even your own bloodline.

But maybe if we look closer in the little gaps.
Some were actually lovers,time stops.
How many decades did they hide for?

How much fear and judging were they wary of?
And so hear me out,here and now.
History hates lovers,they say.

As the words come out of my mouth.
They say nobody could figure it out.
They say they hid it well.

Alas,there was no proof.
Screaming in a room soundproof.
In despair when they separate once and for all.

History hates lovers,that I know.
And so historical books call them anything but lovers.
The lovers hid it with all their powers.

Maybe back then it was accceptable as a whole.
And maybe it was alright.
But now it’s many years later.

Together,they felt whole.
She was fire deep down,passion and desire.
But historical books say she was burnt in fire as a witch.

I know it turns a switch.
When you read he textbooks, but something seems to be missing.
Context if you will.

The lovers,fear and judgement they would feel.
Reminds you of an orange peel,does it not?
We always peel it and only eat the inner contents.

And we throw away the peel.
This is how lovers would feel.
When someone judges them,emotion reel.

And so the lovers dug secret tunnels to meet.
She was like strawberry shortcake,colorful and sweet.
And the lover was from the enemy side.

Yet the two lovers met up secretly all the time.
Textbooks say they are just friends,
But friends don’t look at eachother with love in their eyes.

With hopes to settle down for the rest of their lives.
Alas,textbooks lie.
And time quickly fly.

Textbooks don’t show how much they did cry.
When they separated for good,can’t deny.
And paint slowly dry.