False Imprisonment Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

These past 10 years, have I not loved you?
Clothed you, fed you, held your hand,
Wiped away your overlapping tears
Sent them into a contented remission
Have I not crawled on my own belly?
Out of every self-made bottomless pit
You've made quicksand of a fairy tale.
Have I not put you on a pedestal?
… Said openly out loud, I love you.
Are you not beautiful in my eyes?
Then, if all this is true, why, why, why
Am I still ugly to you?