Duty of Love

I wrote this upon hearing my parents were separating.

The injustice of amor
Is that one can suddenly
Choose to love
No more

Where did this idea come from?
Why is it here?
Who would want to throw everything away
After so many staggering years?

Love is nothing but white wash
Splashed vicariously onto a fence

And you the cold metal scraper
Not just removing the worn and weathered flakes
But also the entire canvass.