The Discussion

Classic poem

Things are uncomfortable,
Between you and I.
Do not ask the question,
For I have no clue why.

How do we fix this?
Well I don't know that either.
You tend to be mad at me,
Like an unhappy child with a fever.

Are we going to end this?
Or is this just the begining.
Because I cannot take much more,
This isn't a way of living.