My Regrets Poem by A Waltz For Zizi
My Regrets
Your letter
is unkind to me.
You hurry
to the end
afraid
that I might do
things
to harm you
that I would press
my fingers
on your words
and
weigh you down.
I am nothing more
than a broken heart,
a cripple.
I have no arms
to harm you
to touch you.
I have only
my tongue
and my lips.
I borrow arms
and legs
from others
to write you
and send you
my regrets.
Saturday, June 6, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: letter,love
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5/4/2024 1:22:28 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A broken heart with the muse of love and pain. Nice work.