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Crissa B Welsh May 2016
Sometimes sorry just doesn't cut it,
Sometimes it simply doesn't work.
Sometimes I can't do anything,
but think and wallow in hurt.

Sometimes I wish I was stronger,
Sometimes I wish I could speak,
Sometimes I wish you'd understand,
that I am only weak.

For you are the decision,
both savior and destroyer,
that one choice I had made,
to bring the joy to summer.

But alas, it seems you are not it,
not the warm breeze I wished would come,
but the harsh winter from rage come undone.

I love you, t'is the truth we know,
but as you add another tear,
to my own joy and happiness..
Sometimes I wished you had more care.
For my friend

— The End —