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I did it for you, Dad said.
No child should grow up in a broken home. 
But little did he know then that broken we would become 
Years of bitterness and regret
Would keep beating at the door 
Doing their bit in wearing us down 
Unsaid hurts and grievances would crystallise 
What could have been washed away easily once 
Would form stalactites in the cavities of our hearts 
And silences would engulf silences
Deepening the abysses between the broken people 
Living in an unbroken home  



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