Love makes a circle
Of a vow of trust
Two promising to tie
One to another
Each other comes first
In order to keep
The wedding ring from rust
Construct a stable home
Lay the blue prints on the table
A table built to sit
As the days go by
Two becomes three
Three becomes five
In a circle they all fit
An additional chair for each
As the happy days begin to die
A paper lays itself on the table
The same table
Over the blue prints they glare
Ripping through the frayed rope
Once known as an unbreakable knot
At the vacant eyes in the room
After everything has become
Ripped apart rather than untied
A ring of fighters
Fists ready to throw
Towards the one who swings first
No corners to linger
A split between money
After talk of alimony
Isn’t what makes this fight ugly
But a child’s unknown fear
Of how this separation
Will affect them the worst
The children grow in the gray clouds
Adapting to the overcast skies
As the remnants of the storm remain
Locked inside
Inside a heart that tries
To tie together using only what’s now a string
Trying to sew and repair
The days that are now dead
Of how their parents used to be a pair.
