She was his love, behind the fence, 
 but he was loth to show it; 
She was his only, long, true, love -- 
 but didn't know it. 

He built them castles made of ice, 
 to float with weightlessness; 
His every thought, of her, while she 
 could not care less. 

Behind the fence was where she stayed, 
 while he grew old with waiting -- 
A love made up of naught, but one 
 anticipating