How many years has it been since we talkedStill missing you. . .
With hands at our sides instead of each other's throats?
So much for the peace we only thought to retrieve
Those chances were lost when you were called to leave.
If I'd lowered myself for a moment to say:
"Sarah, I'm sorry;" would you be here today?
That's how it looks beyond stained-glass
Remembering laughter from an innocent past.
Only when opaque windows open can we see
That nothing is ever so as rosy as it seems.
17 May 2008
I've really never claimed to be good at poetry, but I was going through a lot of my old things today, and came across this. I wrote it as a sophomore and forgot about it, but it sums things up well enough to convince me to preserve it here.
Posted by Mitch at 5:32 PM