Poem #37
When I try to write a poem
It’s my way of telling
The world I love it here
And I don't want to leave,
Not just yet.
It’s an apology of sorts
A confession to a faceless voice
Behind a red drape.
I know I’ve gone astray.
I never should have smashed
That monogrammed wine glass
Or ignored so many half moons
Or cursed my life.
But the truth is
I really don't want to go.
I want to stay right here
With everyone I love
And all the things I pretend to know.
1/29/22
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