Sunday, September 19, 2010


So I drop, and with my descent
Comes waves and waves of mis-intent
Honored by the shaken few
As ill-misfortune that I slew.

Taken back and rather stirred
Their sickened tongue towards me slurred
Unkind words that made no sense
To one they'd hope would make amends?

And here I am, resultant still
Feeling waves that make me chill
For all the bad things I have done
When all I did was pack and run.

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