I
never know what...
18 years have passed
without you by my side...
as the body count
careered out of control those...
Think, chew, next.
Sauce, chocolate, cheese...
I am sorry if I let my anger ruled me,
I apologize for not forgiving you easily...
I'm sorry that I'm deceitful,
that I look just fine, except I'm not...
The saddest tears are the driest ones seen in the bravest smile. |
Don't tell one who writes of grief to rethink their "I" statements. When you know they had tears on their hands as they wrote, don't say the poem could be better. You might as well say their grief could be worse. |
If someone shares a poem with you that is meant to help close an open wound, they don't want your opinion. They want your hand on their shoulder, gripping it tight. |