That Which I Always Was Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Hang up your hardships
On my shoulder,
And come through the apartment’s
Blue door;
And I will take them up from
The grasses of many-legged murder,
And weave them into a vest
I can proudly wear-
It has been many years since I’ve seen you,
But I am still here, where you remember
The starvations, the second story, and the things
We failed in,
But do not shed another tear,
For it will not matter,
But only punctuate the unpronounced
Awakening of twilight:
And cause another imperfection-
She will come through the window
And own us here,
And it is not for us to say a thing,
For I recognize that I am a lonely man,
As I was meant to be,
After you came to your decision,
And I cannot forgive you or ask you to change,
For all of this has past,
And we have both taken our permanent names:
But you can sit with me, if you wish,
In the desolate room you long ago left,
And see with me what I am in uncomplicated silence:
For I will only look at you
And say here, with closed lips,
My eyes the only orators of this light-
What you were never for sure,
That which I always was....