You haven’t asked for forgiveness, you haven’t crossed the fence
You toss your sword then demand from me to hurry and self-inflict
You say that you are friendly with poison in your hand
You’re slurring words and defending things I’ll never understand
Your foundation is fairly dirty, there’s cracks upon the wall
Any direction I’m going, it’s likely I will fall
I warned you I was empty, I warned you I was cold
But now you are doing things I predicted would unfold
You are a drowning man, seeking a casualty
But darling if you really look you’re dead as dead can be
Poetry: it’s not what you say but how you say it…
© Delia Ross. 2020

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Poignant and beautiful writing.
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Thanks so much, Jude! I always appreciate your feedback! ❤
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Pleasure is all mine
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