Temperature
Temperatures rising
Tempers flaring
Egos clashing
Words are thrown
Like fragile plates
They hit the walls
They hit the tiled floor
They hit one another
It was his fault
And the fault was hers
He’s mad at her
She’s mad at him
They’re mad at no one
Ask them why
They’re fighting
They’ll answer with
I don’t know
It’s confusing
It’s a mess
It’s love
I’m not really a poetry guy, but I really like this.
Thanks Bronson!