I doubt that I will make it past 21.
My mind is heavy and my heart is weak.
I can feel the last bit of hope leave my crippled body,
beaten nearly unconscious.
I can't keep fighting this fight.
No sane person would.
So...
Will you find it in your heart to forgive me when the last breath exists my lungs?
Will you not try and convince yourself that you could've changed the outcome?
It is not your fault nor could you have done something to stop it,
it's just how I was made.
I promise you I will still try,
but if that day comes,
promise me that you will not beat yourself up.
Promise me,
you'll forgive me.
YOU ARE READING
It's not all black and white
PoetryA personal collection of all my poems. >TW< This is my first book so if you enjoyed reading my poems feel free to vote and leave a comment. ❤️ Lots of love
