A much different ending to your closure
To see things in a different way then how they turned out
The things you swore you’d never become began to sprout
In a perfect world you would have known this without a doubt
Reality was you were young, ignorant, and not much older
Drinking to numb the pain, hardly a day spent sober
Angry, thoughtless, and colder
Over and over in your head you recalled, I told her
“I’m sorry, let’s start over.”
To no effect your words were said
Your guilt was red and blood was shed
Veins were bled and left for dead
If only things could have been done again
Amends, you wouldn’t be six feet deep my friend
-kinGPoetic ™ 2010-
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