You tell me I’m a good man.
That no one is perfect.
But I’m in Hells seventh circle.
And you just never looked hard enough.
But now you’ve peeled the layers.
And I’ve become what I feared.
But the worst part of all.
Is the hurt that you feel.
This anguish I feel.
It simmers and pools.
And the more I ignore it.
The more it feeds and grows.
Somewhere deep within.
Below all the mud.
Is the man you remembered.
Who was someone worth fighting for.
Someone worth love.
I”m sorry I let you down.
I say this too much.
But your love gives me hope.
And for that I’m grateful.
Especially when I don’t deserve it.
-
Author:
Baker (
Offline)
- Published: August 28th, 2025 01:39
- Category: Sad
- Views: 7
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Comments1
Feelings of inadequacy pervade this poem and possibly remorse as well. A declaration of love from someone that doesn't feel that they deserve it. Nicely written
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