Thirteen of eight, theres no debate.

The birds and the bees,

The flowers and trees,

There’s still many hopes,

between the you’s and me’s.


Floundering wandering,

watching away,

today I’ll pray,

that progress will stay.


We move in our circles,

with squares and lines,

hoping and praying,

that these are our times.


But do we ever acknoledge,

the love contained,

in our heads and hearts,

or are we still yet to find.


Do we go searching,

deep within,

awaiting the time,

when the grin comes in.


I’d like to express,

my love for you,

think I’ll try fathering,

and believe you should too.



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