In My Room/Office/Studio

In My Room/Office/Studio
"A writer and nothing else: a man alone in a room with the English language, trying to get human feelings right." - John K. Hutchen.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Sorry for the Story (Poem)

You were supposed to be my wife
and that could have saved my life
It’s you that I should be kissing
and now, sadly, it’s you that I’m missing
It may sound like a sorry anthology
But you don’t have to accept my apology
All I need is for you to hear my words
I just don’t wanna tell it to the birds
I promised to be always there for you
Particularly in times when you feel blue
I had sworn to always make you smell a red rose
But instead all I gave you was a bleeding nose
Damn me!
To you I have never been man enough
But you always stood so tough
Even when I made your days so rough
lady, I’m really sorry for the story
I’m sorry for the things that I did to you,
And the things I never did for you
I’m sorry for the trauma that I made you go through
I’m sorry for the times when I left you out in the cold
when I was supposed to be there for you to hold

See you gave me all you got
And yes we could have tied the knot
But I messed it up by being such a bull
I complete, certified, award winning fool
I didn’t know what I got till its gone
Now its darkness and I’ll never see dawn
It’s not easy for me to hit the sack
That’s why  I’m crying for you to come back
Teardrops on the strings of my guitar
With the thoughts of you being so far
I miss the days I used to sing you Bon Jovi’s Bed of Roses
What a feeling it still imposes
Dear, I’m really sorry for the story
I’m sorry for the things that I did to you,
And the things I never did for you
I’m sorry for the trauma that I made you go through
I’m sorry for the times when I left you out in the cold
When I was supposed to be there for you to hold

It may sound like a sorry anthology
But you don’t have to accept my apology
All I need is for you to hear my words
I just don’t wanna tell it to the birds
You left without saying goodbye
But I will always sing you a lullaby
Tunes  sourced right from the core of my heart
Wishing I could take us right to the start
Where emotions were entwined in mutual feelings
Feelings that blew us to the ceilings
Dear, we used to be such great lovers
Now I’m standing in front of this blank canvas
Paint brushes trying to recall the memories
But  it comes only with the agonies
My brushes only paint in vain
And all they can paint is pain
Brushes only paint in vain
And all they can paint is pain




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