Monday, September 01, 2003

5. Mere words?

Mere words, platitudes,
Euphemisms for harsher truths.
As they say, could be much better;
These regrets of mine, though, will hurt forever.

Clouded minds, recessed morals,
Upright citizens and contrite demurrals;
Penitence, sorrow, penance for a single transgression
What wasn’t said will hurt forever.

Just this life is mine to savour,
Dark as the clouds that gather;
Nothing stays this way forever;
If only death wouldn’t be so farther.

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