Friction
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Our son's lament, when his wife divorced him. The poetry form is Hexaduad.
(Poetry Form: Hexaduad)
We fight
at night.
Our hearts are not attuned;
we sling harsh words to wound.
How can we work this problem out,
when all we do is rant and shout,
accuse, deny and blame?
We each have done the same.
I know you love me still,
my love I cannot kill;
so, please, let's try.
Don't say goodbye.
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014
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