The wall

There are a thousand reasons why I shouldn’t love you,
But I will not dwell on them, although others wish I would.

There are a hundred memories I keep fresh of me and you,
But I can’t wear a mourning dress of history, though the fit is good.

I can see at least a dozen different future lifetimes with you
hand in hand along La Seine if only the wall I built could be torn down,
 
or you could find a single way to 
scale it without injury?