"I'm sorry" two words
Vacant defensive
He pours whatever it is
Into the bowl
Because whatever it is
He's too frightened to care
Words scratch and tear
Her words always bite
In the least expected ways
They eat as well
There's no weapon no shield
No one else in the room
Where light shines but feels
The colder for it
Only
"I'm sorry"
A collection of poems and musings by a rookie poet and constant dreamer - J.O.S.H
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