Is it strange to mourn a concept?
To long for twelve gold stars?
For a while now I have wept,
and complained about what’s ours.
For we all have different opinions,
and different points of view.
Not everyone’s a villain
when their viewpoint seems askew.
If only we had talked.
If only we had tried.
If only we had made the effort
To bridge the great divide.
Maybe things would be different,
or the same without the hate.
Because I wouldn’t mind as much
if we all got on as mates.
Ooh, a topical poem now that Brexit is in full swing. In all seriousness, I’m not here to moan about my political views. But I thought a little poem would be appropriate tonight of all nights.
One can only hope that one day we’ll all get along together.
Thanks for reading.
As always, feel free to leave a comment below! I love a good chat.
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