A Sonnet for English

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And I feel twisted up inside for all the stupid things I said

Always hurting people, I should learn to stay away

Stop sanding people's patience, stop with the extempores

An overbearing orator, give someone else the floor


Won't look me in the eyes, her hair draping disdain

Shame washes in my gut, I feel like a disease

I miss the old familiar comfort in past pariahship

But they will never know me, this is my guilt trip


And here I sit, all pitiful, feeling sorry for myself

For always I am selfish, don't want to face the truth

Justify my offense, forever, I, the victim

Or maybe I'm still growing, in self-forgiveness there is wisdom

18 Years of God Damn Bullshit: A MemoirWhere stories live. Discover now