Pub Run

Silence is broken,
and not as expected.
In my dreams, kisses were shared, confetti showered down.
In reality, a three digit number was shared. No thanks were uttered.

In a perfect world, those who wrong would not be happy.
They would grieve with those they torment, and suffer from guilt.
I grieve knowing that you are only angry as a defense.
I have not sinned against you, yet I cannot sleep.
My thoughts are constantly diverted to your words and actions
and how they relate to me.
How is it the wrongdoers assign guilt while the innocent rot in cells?

I hope to see you tomorrow, engaging in local custom.
I pray the symbol of hope on my chest
will inspire your honesty, encourage an apology.
I hope to see your true self. And if I don't,
I'll sit quietly in the corner, sipping on something
of the single-malt variety, contemplating the way
you maintain such a sanguine state, while covered in so much blood.

Reviews

[Riding the Rainbow]

Really profound and touching poem..
Well done!