A poem I wrote about when you fight with a loved one.
In a fit of anger,
I slam the door.
The photo on the wall,
Crashes to the floor.
The yelling continues.
As does the rage.
It really is a pity,
We aren’t acting our age.
A misunderstanding,
Such a petty fight.
But the words are still said,
Harsh just for the spite.
A wedge driven between us,
Can it be mended?
This hurt has gone farther,
Than we ever intended.
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