I Recall

Wrote this one a while back. Never quite finished it.

I grow colder every day

And life gets older, torn and frayed.

A little bolder, but all the same.

Exhaustingly older, still ashamed.

 

Two years after, I've healed most wounds,

After twenty four months and twenty four moons.

Still just watching from afar,

Lost in finding who you are.

 

We never got it right,

We never managed to see th light.

But now that all is said and done,

Of all mistakes, my greatest one,

 

Was letting you destroy yourself,

And watching you endure this hell.

Too judgmental, too uncaring,

Walking in shoes that you weren't wearing.

Reviews

[Constance L. Hartwell]

what a beautifully written poem. it was vivid, gentle, and effortless. never stop writing; you have a gift.