Sorry stopped meaning something the last ten times you said it
“I’m Sorry”
You said, yet the meaning wasn’t there
For sorry is just a word to fill a blank space in time
“I’m sorry, I really am”
Yet somehow I know
After I get better again you’ll go back to your ways
Your words pierce me; a knife to my heart
Leaving me empty, hollow
A fragment of a past self
Yearning to start again
There’s a dog that sits on the end of my street—
he barks at anyone that nears,
snarling teeth that glow shiny in the afternoon light.
There’s a dog that sits on the end of my street—
You asked me to stay
As you gazed into the future
Longing once more
I am not a poet
I don’t know how to use my words the way they can
I can’t captivate the minds of my friends by stringing them along with the simplest of words
I am not a musician
Comments
Log in or register to post comments.