I Am Sorry, to Pat, of Edmonton, N 18 and Tottenham Technical College, N 17, London, circa 1961
To me there is not justice in this world,
and no God awaiting us either.
So who, therefore, could freely harm an innocent soul,
and then each night sleep in peace for ever after?
For though many things that a man has done,
may well lie dormant through the passing years,
as if safe in a long-forgotten silence,
on some calm morning,
say in magic Spring,
with Nature beautiful and moving,
memories of scars on others that he made,
they will suddenly weep and break open,
sending shivers running down the spine
to haunt and torment with knowing.
And oh thus would that I,
from my cradle to my grave,
tried so not to have left on a person,
as in my goodbye to Pat,
the cuts of human pain,
and the hurt of my thoughtless actions,
when in truth I was crying out for the love she offered me,
even in the moment I last saw her.
Because your heart may never, ever, be given a chance again,
to express your regret to them and your deep sorrow.
Copyright © Clifford Chapman | Year Posted 2018
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