there are... cruel fireworks, booming behind my back. you seem to think that makes you better. i think that's not right. mistakes are made sometimes, it comes with life. just as a wave in the sea lasts only a few moments, a regretful choice only takes toll as long as you let it. so why? i've said my apologies, i've tried to keep moving forward. your feet stick to conflict as if it is tar, and your words crash in an ear that is deaf to the noise. recently i recieved a hearing aid, composed of a cold depression. it looks for those words and now, i cannot ignore them. i'm sorry, and i'll say it a million times. but despite this new hearing aid, i haven't heard... "sorry."
this is a not-so-indirect poem about the seniors at my school, who seem to think i'm the enemy.