#I'm_sorry
For I care enough to own up to my flaws, said I'm sorry for you worth every breath in my lungs.
A lot that with words I can't fathom
A lot that with emotions I can't express
A lot that with sincerity I can't display enough of.
It takes no joy in me when I constantly apologize
Apologies for been wrong at all times
Apologize for not learning from my flaws
Apologize for not been mature enough to own up
Apologize for repeating the same mistakes constantly,
For trying to fix what can't be fixed,
my brokenness,
my selfishness,
my inconsiderateness
Sorry for always trying to be perfect
For trying not hurt you
For constantly hurting you when I said I won't
For always doing the opposite of what I preach daily
For being the cause of your pain and brokenness
For being too human for your liking
For being an apologist
For being a looser
For pushing you
Fir hurting you
For failing you
For not being enough for you
For being like any man out there
If there be any reason in the world beside apologizing, to have you back in my life, then I will apologize until is enough for your heart and mind to see the sincerity
In my apology
#Poetic_Ink
Efficiency, anxiety
Result, vanity
Success, burnout
Alienation, disguise
Unconscious, relapse
Control, coact
Apologist: own merit!
Arbitrary, reclusive
Circus, bread
Conscious, blurred
Acceptance.
Commotion, trivialization
Affection, weakness
Love, liquid
Affliction, medication
People can no longer
Human beings.
- Bruna Beatrice.
*Image of People of the Dawn by Pixabay.
Instruments of Mercy
Amidst the wailing whiplashed 'neath a moonlit plight,
Against the cowered beast of demons gnashing white,
Angst men in their temporary shanties walled bubbles,
Atheist fated them to wile their skill with steel shovels,
Apologist to the bitter end proves it's never supported,
Absolutist self-denial raw display ne'er to be thwarted,
Awarest who'd weathered the conviction of strong will,
Awkwardest fretted near sunk rocks, lost eyes wet still,
Aptest met their latest neighbor, old-timers now closer,
Antichrist organized bits of their faith sitting as a poser.
2022 January 22
See the lashing of the Singer,
I think he's angry at the sindlinger.
He finds it hard to see the awful,
Overshadowed by the gloomy belgian waffle.
Who is that wavering near the horrible?
I think she'd like to eat the orabelle.
She is but a terrible Motherland,
Admired as she sits upon a reprimand.
Her lifeless car is just a dreadful,
It needs no gas, it runs on headful.
She's not alone she brings a battered,
a pet dog, and lots of attard.
The dog likes to chase a scary,
Especially one that's in the arie.
The Singer shudders at the cute apologist
He want to leave but she wants the physiologist.
Jerry Packard was an entomologist
for which he was far from an apologist.
He's glad he faced down
his professor's frown
for refusing to become a proctologist
there was a proud resident
who gave her neighbours
a torrid time because she
was well-connected and big
an apologist and a menace
she was a law unto herself
none could tell her to reduce
the noise her hi-fi produced
from her children to her pets
--all did as they pleased –
her licentious dogs caused havoc
even her chicks were untouchable
when the empire of those who had been
fortifying and sugarcoating her nonsense
imploded--she also crushed on her chest
all the sense of immunity just fizzled out
it was a bitter harvest as her own dogs ran riot
--did the unthinkable: biting her like a stranger
while her own children stood aloof as if gloating
the stunned neighbours watched the fracas from afar
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