poetry falcon's Post

D-
For you, I gift you only this,
this one thing that seems
all I have for you
and it is black as remorse
sharp as obscenity
enduring as neglect.
It's name is anger
rage, wrath.
It is ugly and unkind
and eats me instead of you.

In the smallness of myself
an echo pips white
and wishes I could gift
you forgiveness and grace,
the twining arms of kindness.
We both are through them set free.
By: via poetry falcon

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