A Poem by Scisenheart

I owe an old friend an apology, which I wont give them any time soon.

Quivering uncertainty
lingers in your voice as always.
When we first met, foolishly I mistook
this mouse-like quality for kindness.

And in a kindly way
you contradict each word I say.
Hatred boils inside me but I cannot say a word,
only reel back and ask, if that's really what I heard.

So subtle and maternal,
concerned and so discreet.
the malice only I see makes me 
surprised you have a heart beat.

Because you're passionless as paper,
just as sharp and just as cold.
You wrinkle it with just a touch,
that'll be you when you're old.

For once, I've learnt what you have not;
Our hearts aren't made of gold.
Rebellion may be long dead these days,
but that doesn't mean you should do what you're told.

I thought, once, I could rebel
by staying good and wholesome.
A romantic, intellectual dreamer
meek, and eternally lonesome.

But I was only wasting
the few years that I had,
so from now on I will live my life
and not be needlessly sad.

Go home, Mouse,
to university and success.
If it brings you the happiness you desire,
in that respect alone,
I have not failed you as a friend.

© 2012 Scisenheart

My Review

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You are a really talented person.
I love how well your writes just flow.
deep powerful write here.
I really enjoyed this write.

Posted 8 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Ah, you have seen the gaslight as well. I can relate. I very much like your subtle descriptiveness and slow rise of emotion. Nice work.

Posted 8 Years Ago

A mind stimulating read. Another very touching poem. Very well done.

Posted 8 Years Ago

Interesting... I like the paper metaphor.
well, regarding apologies its better late than never.

Posted 8 Years Ago

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4 Reviews
Added on March 24, 2012
Last Updated on March 24, 2012
Tags: friendship, failure, growing up, growing apart



Trapped inside my head, Scotland

Blind Blind

A Poem by Scisenheart