I'm sorry, makes my heart ache no less
these words appeases the mind and strokes the ego
But turn back time, erase words and dries tears, it does not
I'm sorry, a consolation after words and deeds have reeked havoc with emotions
But, it saves face and displays at least a modicum of care
I'm sorry, two words that you dread to hear, because they're preceded by hurt and despair
Take solace in that, genuine expression of sorrow over pain caused is a sign
A sign of hope, that perhaps, just perhaps, things can get better
I have of late taken the view that no matter how rebellious, unconventional, non-conformist we would like to think ourselves, we are at some point always part of a similar grouping of people. We are never truly leaders, but followers. Followers, I prefer to refer to us as sheep; because at one point or another in our life we are all sheep. This is a place to express myself, vent my frustration with the sheepdom, and relieve my boredom. It is my therapy for all that contributes to my neurosis.
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
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