The more you harp on my guilt
and sin, the more convinced I am
that you are right - the faster I run
I’m not hanging around to listen to
you run me down, I have already
done that, already tried
To force my body and spirit, heart
and soul to relinquish this life in
which I am indicted for doing
Too little, too late, too clumsy, too
inappropriate; I had hoped that love
could somehow make this life right
But not in this time, not in this
place, not for you; I’m sorry,
it’s not your fault at all…
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
“This boy’s gonna make it” – ‘n heildronk op my ma, Annemarie: Dit gaan soms broekskeur om met familie klaar te kom want "Famil...
-
Looking for the good, ignoring the sad (anything we dislike), according to Abraham’s (Esther Hick’s) website: “You cannot look at what you ... -
Found a perfect rendition of the Arabic alphabet on the Internet, trying to remember the letter KHa is pronounced with a guttural G...
No comments:
Post a Comment