Please don’t be naive, you write to
relieve an ache, to assuage a deep
seated discontent – to dispense with
the need for analgesic succour. In the
event you’d have achieved no greater
angst by simply asking ‘forgive me’.
In that world which you abandoned
to flee from perceived emotional
malnourishment all events are forgot,
bewilderment cedes blind bitterness
in your mind alone; the signs deceived
along the way, leading to this impasse.
Your hasty departure cast no aspersions,
solved no doubt, served no purpose. The
ground where you stand now remains fallow
despite your pretence, your words are
sterile comments on how you tried to make
ends meet and so clearly failed.
Where will you go to now?
© 17 March 2007, I.D. Carswell
No comments:
Post a Comment