Self Loath/Love

Nothing better than a Mother's love

Nothing more prestine and pure like two white doves

Nothing more important than her life span

But who's to say the same when all hits the fan

Who's to say the love will be everlasting

Who's to say who's to blame for ones self relapsing

Who's responsible for one's own growth

Most would say it's the one who made the sacred unspoken oath

But the truth is rather simple, some might say is crude

But when one pasts the only way is ti buried in solitude

So who's really at fault for one's bad timing

Because thats all that life's about, not mother's remindings

For those who think that they aren't the reason they're doing the time

You are the ones whose life puzzle is missing the piece of rhyme

This poem is about: 
Me

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