To: the two
Who are the two of two.
I blame myself for my own regrets,
of which memories I cannot forget.
Resentful thoughts, emotions smother.
Two but one is not the other.
To: the two
Who are one of two.
I blame myself for my own demise,
of which no one knows nor cries.
Unanswered questions, realities scorn.
Two but one I cannot morn.
To: the two
Who remain the two.
I blame myself for its distress,
of which, its pain I now bless.
Tortured days, nights too fast.
To the two, you are my last.
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Author:
Maplespal (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 19th, 2024 04:23
- Comment from author about the poem: Just "I" talking to "myself" and "me"
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
Offline)
Comments1
We learn through our mistakes, or so they say.
Yes but only if you are willing to review your mistakes, too many people think it is too hard to review.
If we were to judge ourselves we wouldn't be judged, so it says...
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