3 Dimensional Interactive Movies

sonnet #1,624

They sniff at our being young, say, you're unfit
For true love, when that's truly otherwise;
They didn't stop to spot us portrait size,
It lashed us mores we'd usually admit.
A globe has gone and we're left grime and grit,
Old nuclear family-power fob-off lies;
We neither pity them this nor despise
As high divorce rates count ourselves a hit.
Our love will last at least one century,
In health, in sickness, by swaddled stem cell,
Through peaks of plenty, troughs of penury,
In megalopolis we'll love, we'll dwell.
Eternally, though, we'll try right their wrong,
Their ignorance well meant, we'll string along.

(Chorus)

o wrong
o falsehood
o sin