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Isn't it sad how I'm still writing poems for him? posted on: Tuesday, Feb. 07, 2006 at 5:55 pm |
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I made a list today, Of all the things to remember for tomorrow, I wrote your name at the end, And then I crossed it out, For you must stay forgotten. But I know, That even though it is illegible, Even though it is buried under all my anger, Regret, Fear, Self-loathing, Depression, That was concentrated through the pen, That it is still there, Irremovably, permenantly, eternally Etched into the page. And so I go to sleep, And dream about you, My forgotten. So long and goodnight. |
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