perfections not a race

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All I saw were tears and a worried face.

Nothing, has yet to be explained.

Fighting and crying, is this more your pace?

Fighting for emotions? Perfections not a race.

Mommy and Daddy fight again.

But nobody knows why, and nobody knows when.

Will they ever stop to take a break?

Won't all their fighting turn into aches?

Marriage is something you do when your in love.

But fighting and crying every night? No. That's not love.

Why do you even bother?

They aren't going to change.

They were made this way,  you chose them to marry.

So let's just leave and forget about this place.

Cause after all perfections not a race.

poetry ;; typical_writersKde žijí příběhy. Začni objevovat