Friday, November 11, 2011

If Things Were What They Were

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if i had not faltered
if i had allowed
things to be
what they were
she would
still be calling
me sir
i would not
be writing
poems of
forgiveness
for her
my muse
the soul
of my unborn
poems stirs
before and after
she often told me
to get my mind
checked with a
mind doctor
stop calling myself
a poet and a beggar
yes i do miss her
her upbringing
her good culture
with my own hands
a friendship
i ruptured
yes i took her
for granted
i misbehaved
i erred

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