Sale, sale, sale…
Sixty-five cents salt,
Rushes out to buy,
Why does it make someone cry?
Unpleasant scene occurs
Due to salt? How queer!
Cold war between two,
Break bond made with glue
Unintentional hurt
Due to painful words being blurt
Along with rage
A disappointment raise
Forgiveness was not asked
Silence brings two apart
Only when one gives in
Then maybe
Everything might be forgotten
note: I should face my driving phobia
29/11/2003
Written more than 3 years ago.
After an argument with my mom for not willing to drive her to Carrefour to get 65-cent salt. *shrugs*
I'm still afraid to drive. Such disappointed. Enough said.
Time to do something about it.
2 comments:
Weird poem... and come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen you drive. o_o Hmmm....
Still have that phobia?
*nods* T__T
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