You're a long way from forgiven
I think you know now,
After everything you've done.
Maybe it's easier to say what you haven't.
I've had no one to talk to,
No one to conspire or plot with,
No shoulder to cry on,
and you can bet there were times I'd need it.
And through all this,
there were times I really wanted to forgive you,
yet again I remember,
You probably don't even realize I'm angry.
It seems I've always been your outlier,
the one who doesn't match.
I don't curl my hair or wear expensive makeup,
Hell, my socks barely ever match.
But your friends' do,
Those skinny witches who bake on plastic faces,
The same ones who conspire against you under your own roof.
I wait for the day you see through all of this,
the day they decide you're the disposable friend.
The day you come running for a shoulder to cry on,
a friend to talk with again.
Make no mistake, I'll be there,
but there will be no asking for forgiveness
from the person you turned your back on.
YOU ARE READING
The Lonely Hour
PoetryNot everything rhymes Not everything has to Of all that is bright And what hides in darkness The loving The hiding The living The Binding It hurts us not To follow a purpose To quell our minds dullness And to find our own fullness. Of sentences Of...
