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.
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