A bride so new,
Actually, spectacularly beautiful,
Walked down the aisle.
The groom shed a tear, a tear of joy.
Hundreds and thousands of guests
Scattered the flowers with grace,
Yet it was the father
Whose eyes were wet.
He might have recalled
The night the bride was born,
And today he sees
She is walking down the aisle.
He refused to accept it at once
And looked at his wife,
She signaled to him to pull his shit together
And put on a fake smile of joy.
Being a man, a husband, and a dad,
He remembers a saint and his words:
"Daughters and sons are there as a part of life,
Yet they have their own stories to make for their lives."
Attachment is a source of suffering,
And yet it makes us wonder,
What if there was none?
Would life be the same, full of fights?
This is all that life makes,
So for a bride,
It's in the groom's eye
Where they see both their lives.
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