I’m Sorry

 

In the space of seven letters I don’t expect you to forgive

The pain I passed on to you, the fresh scars I know you hid

From my careless style, of selfish disposition

You the unintended object of ignored premonition

In the space of seven letters I hope to give a glimpse

Of what has come since the time of brokenness

Eight letters later, my heart it cracks again

A different type of needle, one that’s used to mend

An utterance of courage that heals a world of pain

That take the crime and makes it a story rid of shame

“To be remembered not,” you said with eyes of hope

That burned the last of littered past,

Bond no earthly fire could choke

 

 

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