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.