about a square peg in a round hole

ma and pa fought this morn’,
heated tones awash with angry pride;
t’was trivial, banal and civily unadorn
just like the ones we tried to elide.

it wasn’t such that either was right
when we got into those fights,
but neither one of us could alight
from the righteous bias that clouded our sight.

then one day you went away
without a note without a say,
and i knew t’was time to pay
for all the times we were at fray.

wish i didn’t say the things i said,
didn’t enforce the things i forced;
wish you didn’t do the things you did,
didn’t choose the choices you chose;
wish we didn’t fight the fights we fought,
didn’t wear us down to naught.