I seek solace in sometimes
However, I am some time
Away from sometimes.
I seek a woman
Who understands the complex nature
In which nothing makes sense
I know that I fall
Into myself
Far to easy
This is because the floor
Is made of faulty construction.
It’s all illusions of
Father figures and loveless relationships.
It’s like wet balsa wood.
I have grown to old
To blame my father.
I have grown to distant
To blame girls in the past.
I just stand her
Agitated
Kicking myself
For not being smart enough
To change.
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