I spit poison in your face,
like you always did to me.
And you,
apologized.
Two words,
I'm sorry.
Does this make me the monster now?
YOU ARE READING
Poetry From The Eye of A Storm
PoetryJust the outpouring of a silent wallflower, trying to speak.
I'm. Sorry.
I spit poison in your face,
like you always did to me.
And you,
apologized.
Two words,
I'm sorry.
Does this make me the monster now?
