| Written: AUG 21, 2003 |
Wronged to the core,
as if a demonic ripping of your guts.
And all that pain and suffering,
can be allocated to a single horrible being.
No words can heal the misdeeds,
yet in vain they spill forth in a river.
Naught but a few tears to the agony inflicted,
the sticks can’t stem the flow for an instant.
Enamored by the magnitude of my failure,
I sit shaking, is it fear, anger, loss?
But despite what befalls me,
it remains nothing but a shadow
playing upon the wall.
The reality of the situation lies in your anguish,
how can I lessen this,
please someone let me know.
Right now I am broken
and I wish only for the knowledge.
The learning to repair your thoughts
and have you look at me without sorrow.
