I’d ask you to overlook my sins,
but it would be too late,
my old friend, you left me
at the first sign of trouble,
and you stayed gone, gone—
like a song you want to sing,
but forgot the lyrics,
and have to hum, hum.
05 Tuesday Mar 2019
Posted in Poetry
I’d ask you to overlook my sins,
but it would be too late,
my old friend, you left me
at the first sign of trouble,
and you stayed gone, gone—
like a song you want to sing,
but forgot the lyrics,
and have to hum, hum.