We all seek forgiveness
for the things that we once did
I offered you acceptance
which you said, once, moved you so.
It's strange now, as I ponder
this painful irony
that you yourself cannot accept me
though the lives that I have hurt
are no greater than those you have injured too.
And even with your own confession
I sit not in judgment over you
I simply accept you for all your foibles
and I find in your human frailties
a window into your tender, worthy soul
that I would gladly sooth.
And I thought, too, that my own faults
would be as water under a bridge
for I'm not the wounded animal
when those things I once did.
But though you say it's not my past
that makes you walk away,
you still believe against all I've shown
that to yours I am a threat.
Now, most would answer in anger
that emerges from their pain
while others sarcasm or silence
to hurt the one who had hurt them.
And though I'll admit I thought that you
knew better my soul within,
I discovered that you really never knew me
or the man whom I truly am.
And even though the loss I feel
has a bitter, bitter taste,
I know that you shall one day rue
this mistake that you have made.
I take no comfort in the loss
that you will one day feel
and the terrible regret you'll one day know
will be greater than my own.
“No guarantee,” “all things change” are words you
once told me
I never thought they'd change that fast,
it really blindsided me.
The irony of all of this is that
in fearing I would not one day be there for you
you, in fact, have deserted me:
preemption based on little more
than what may or may not be.
I hope that when the day arrives
when you want me back in your life...
...but, then again, who knows if I'll still feel the same,
and want you back in mine.
For twice your rain has poured on me
and twice I have endured this storm,
but to risk it thrice? I cannot
“No guarantee” I make to you.