It wasn't store-bought, darling, that much is true,

No easy assembly, no fast glue.

We built this ourselves, from the ground to the roof,

A complicated structure that needed more proof.

I picked out the lumber, the steel, and the stone,

Refusing the kits that were easily grown.

I hammered the promises, one by one straight,

And sanded down arguments, sealed by some fate.

Every flaw in the pattern, every slightly bent nail,

Was a feature we swore would survive every gale.

We called it unique, a true work of art,

Never noticing the rot that crept into the heart.

And when it collapsed, that spectacular fall,

It was loud and it scattered, not gentle at all.

I stared at the rubble, the careful, hard work,

And realized the effort was just part of the jerk.

But I kept the blueprint, the plans I had made.

I learned every failure, every joint that had frayed.

My next model will be sturdier, better designed.

This handmade disaster just trained my own mind.