Hurt Poem by Sarah Sisson

Hurt



I am boggled and my accusations
are trite. Here comes the woman
I wish to ignore. I am this monger
for a while and then I diminish.
What kind of recluse do I attach
myself to? I want to feel the
pain of the ones that hurt me.
To see if I have hurt them enough
to keep their company.

Copyright 01-06-2009 ©® Sarah Sisson

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