Loud and Proud
My husband and I are arguing, and it is loud and proud.
We could walk around stomping and mean, under a sad rain cloud,
But we have known each other since first grade, with dear Mrs. Stroud.
When we disagree we turn into five-year-olds, loud and proud.
Others might not understand thinking our marriage is ready for a shroud,
These babyish ways work for us, so please forgive us when we are loud.
And get out of our way and give us some space when we get proud.
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