Sweet children,
i am so easily irritated,
i am so quickly drained.
i see my foul negativity
blanch your tender hearts,
but too late, the deed is done.
i'm working on it.
i want you to understand,
but what words
can help you see?
(tell them, tell them)
the Voice whispers
(show them, show them)
yes, the path is clear.
but how can i explain?
his bitterness
has become
a way of life for me.
I seem to have stepped in
now that he has stepped out.
and how can i show you
a better way
when you are
stuck like me?
not now, not now
i can't
i'm sorry, i'm sorry.
my empty words
and broken promises
will not become my epitaph.
i'm working on it.
--bruised orange
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