no sequel


 

wrong all along
on my sleeve is grievances
prolonged by psalms
that haven't seen me receiving them
in the median, straddled
between what i battle, & what's easier
when believe you me i'd rather
see you scantily clad, hair scattered
you can't be mad, at what's the matter
looking at her, getting sadder
seeming battered & bruised
mistreated, beaten, misused
defeated, abused
i'm not abusive
nor stuck on stupid, looped in confusion
what i've done to you's been, no fun to you, friend
i was suppose to run to you &
save you; be the sun to you
instead, i became a gun to you
a 380, that sung to you
not "you are my lady;" more like a lullaby
that brung goodbye, to you & i
sabotaged us with mirages
i wasn't unaware of the wear & tear in our harvest
problems were there, full of despair, quite obvious
as you grew weaker, i didn't mistreat you
just didn't treat you, like i wanted to keep you
wished i'd a kept you; not emotionally left you
there's no sequel, for the one who neglects you

                                        no sequel

 

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Red H. Gill