Forgive Me

To the erratic memories residing beneath the lobes of my brain,

Or the one that’s been something and still nothing for me,

To the shades of my art and to the letters of my words,

Or to every verse and every stanza,

To those weary times of stalking,

Or that nonsense I have been talking,

To those eyes and those smiles,

Or those metaphors I’ve been using,

To the stunning souls inspiring me,

Or the one who’s been my writing,

Forgive me.

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