A freshmans wit, a fresh mans mind,
A pretty girl, a petty mind,
I thought I had seen the signs.
Too much trust, a broken bond,
a fragile young man, whos heart was gone.
A masculine culture, a tear to many,
a broken son, one belt to many.
The signs of love are hard to catch. Be it a girl, your first fresh out of puberty,
Or be it your father, whom you gave your trust to.
i cant finish this poem, the memories too rough. a healthy relationship isnt one you can blindly trust.
I loved my dad until he called me gay. I loved my girlfriend until she ripped herself away.
A freshman boy with a fresh mans mind, was torn apart by a love that was too blind.