Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2012
If I could go back
To when I made my choices,
The choices that led to everything today
I probably would’ve done nothing different.
‘Cause I still probably wouldn’t have stopped myself…
But no matter what
… no matter what…
the guilt will always be the death of me.

I guess in my past
I’ll always have been too ignorant
Too blind
Too stupid,
To see what I was doing.

Even though I knew it was wrong
I didn’t know it was wrong,
Which makes no sense,
But what does it matter?
It all happened anyways.
This guilt will be the death of me
The past will ALWAYS be the death of me.

So all I have left is you, and only you.

You never left
Even when you should’ve
And I never left
Even when I should’ve
So all I have left is you
This guilt
… and you.

**April 21, 2012
See if you can guess why it's called 'Pinta Island Tortoise.' It's yet another frustration poem though
Ben DuBois
Written by
Ben DuBois
Please log in to view and add comments on poems