My family is a book.
Our pages are so worn, so tattered.
Were barely held together.
As a whole our story is unpleasant.
But separately we each hold our own piece of beauty.
My family is a book.
Some chapters being re-read.
And others lost, forgotten,
forever.
Even the thin tape binding us together doesn't seem to work.
Our pages come lose, and fly away.
Never looking back, never returning.
All the tape and glue in the world couldn't save our broken book.
Nothing can save my broken family.
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My crappy poems
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