I do not want you to be free
Of all that you have done to me,
I want you at some greater age;
To feel self anger and vain rage
At this petty younger you
And all that she has put me through.
At all she cost you in the end
In broken things nothing can mend.
But most of all I shall become
With this conceit completely done.
-
Author:
Jabberwocky (
Offline) - Published: May 14th, 2018 03:25
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 28
Offline)
Comments1
You call it conceit but I've got to admit my heart would call it justice. Great write.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.