Best Contrite Poems
I lied about
where we went.
I lied about
what we did.
It was
good bonding.
The cops ruined
our sibling spree.
I am sorry.
You weren’t
supposed to find out.
We didn’t know what was in store.
May 10, 2019
whistling cowboy
mothers pink cheeks
apology
forthcoming now
Written 8-31-2019
Contest: Charlie Quadku
Sponsor: Charlie Messina
I come to know this mad ego
That wants to show a certain glow
I come to see that lame fancy
That wants to be mad vanity.
I come to feel a bitter deal
That wants to thrill a sad reveal.
I come to pine for fruity vine
That wants to brine a dreadful line.
I come to keep a troubling sleep
That makes me weep a pain most deep.
I come to nudge a frightful touch
That spreads too much a loss as such.
I come to pay a bitter sway
That floods each day with surreal stay.
I come to share a hollow stare
That provokes care in broken wares.
I come to sight a simple flight
That sheds some light as weakness fights.
Leon Enriquez
19 December 2014
Singapore
You are not alone, though you feel the way in the weight of silence the fruit drips from your eyes Though everybody hurts it is only yours today Eclipsed by the river, It does not feel like a good cry as wild horses drag your heart through the dust in the gloomy town of contrition, Remember For all the loss, for all the wishing wells that bust broken and torn as the cold winds of December blow against the already lonely and battered You can’t take away the love that was shared You come to know what really and truly mattered As the love flows from your eyes because you cared The growing pains will remain but always there is love To bind all the wounds of time setting free the one faired So your spirit may fly once again far above Happy with no more tears signed your Love
Contrite
I'm supposed to sleep now,
right, how?
One single stone of such irrefutably
inferior quality
built into anything worthy
can destroy the entire entity.
Thus the feeling of humility
casts immediately
its necessity
upon me.
Strength and weakness
trade places
and righteousness
becomes iniquity,
Anger in its fury
destroys in seconds any everlasting beauty,
that ever had a chance to be.
The contrasting images I see
are like slow motion as the hope and dream are suddenly so distant
dashed in an instant.
What else is left to feel,
beware, this is real,
contrite is right.
Remorse,
of course
but what of bliss,
gone the vestiges of harmony,
stop stop, here an excuse,
an explanation of abuse,
say what, are you kidding me,
such is not the way that I can be,
no, this which is is within me,
therefore the why is not a plea,
innocent because I have the right to feel this way,
that is not ok.
What is the source of this contrite spirit which dwells in me now,
consider it's opponent, it's polar opposite and how
Pride on one side seems to rise above
even the strongest love,
love is not strong because of pride,
nor should such feelings be inside
of anything worth being in,
pride is sin
and will not win
if contrition can begin.
A conscience thought
a feeling wrought
with such emotion rarely sought,
wrings its might upon my heart,
it's there the healing has to start,
what a fool what an ass am I,
to have even cast an eye
at thinking it would slide on by,
such torment I begin to cry.
So unworthy so unjust
gone the faith, away with trust,
just an instant all it takes
to cause such pain that the heart breaks,
How could such be
the who in me,
what was it that I didn't see,
can there ever be,
forgiveness in your heart for me?
Of such I ask, of that I pray,
somehow some way
to find sufficient words to say,
I'm sorry how I was today..
David Dobbins July, 2013