Walking on Broken Glass

Weeping endured many nights

but joy came in the mourning

thats right joy

laughter with tears

courage with fears

i chose you 

even though no one understood

you look like a hick and me ..

i look like the hood

neither true and we went deep

i cant even swim but i jumped in the sea

i willing to go the distance 

but you were just a sprinter

When you cut the race short 

weeping endured long that night 

but joy came in my mourning





That was good,  I like the way you used mourning so that it could be interpreted as a double untandra for morning. 

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