deepundergroundpoetry.com
He said he's fucking sorry
Forgive, forget or try?
Well I'll try either one
Let go of the 'I'm sorry sons'
of the fact they were a decade too late in life that's lasted only two
Forgive the ache in between my eyes and blood seeping from gums
the rainy nights left beside kennels
longing to live the life of fires a single pain away
Forget the pangs of jealously they sold at lunchtime
they always put it right by those crusher cups of far away calypso
all the lunch is vital teacher talks
Forget the rest, what's at the bottoms of these fucking bottles
Forgive the cotton for not softening the edge of these words
but don't Forget the ring of the bells in pipes
as they struck twelve right off on your back
and the strings from the back of your head
Fuck the lies, the empty be good at school smiles
Fuck never telling that kid in the cave those echoes had the ring of empty promises not bats
Or try see what's living under this table
See if by then this arm can lift these spirits
Forget coming in that morning
dripping wet and meeting bleach and shaky coffee
Forgive him finding them getting together like the sons of satan on the kitchen floor
but first try and find something to soften those fucking words
Well I'll try either one
Let go of the 'I'm sorry sons'
of the fact they were a decade too late in life that's lasted only two
Forgive the ache in between my eyes and blood seeping from gums
the rainy nights left beside kennels
longing to live the life of fires a single pain away
Forget the pangs of jealously they sold at lunchtime
they always put it right by those crusher cups of far away calypso
all the lunch is vital teacher talks
Forget the rest, what's at the bottoms of these fucking bottles
Forgive the cotton for not softening the edge of these words
but don't Forget the ring of the bells in pipes
as they struck twelve right off on your back
and the strings from the back of your head
Fuck the lies, the empty be good at school smiles
Fuck never telling that kid in the cave those echoes had the ring of empty promises not bats
Or try see what's living under this table
See if by then this arm can lift these spirits
Forget coming in that morning
dripping wet and meeting bleach and shaky coffee
Forgive him finding them getting together like the sons of satan on the kitchen floor
but first try and find something to soften those fucking words
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