The old familiar sting.

(So I have to apologies, I’ve had Johnny Cash stuck in my head since last night and this is a result of that)

Sometimes the world cuts
Deep with the mistakes
I’ve made, Thoughts
I cannot repair,
I cannot share.

I focus on that pain.
Tearing holes
In the memories.
The needle.

Each time
I let you down.
What have I become?
A crown of thorns?
An Empire of dirt?
Torment mourns

The old familiar sting.
Everyone has to fade,
All life needs it’s shade.
Could you have it all?
Or are you someone else?
While I’m finding ways to stall

The ways I let you down,
The ways I make you hurt.
I try to kill it all away,
My sweetest friend,
But I remember everything
And everyone goes away in the end.

Poem © Phen Weston


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