For being absent for so long Then coming back with no excuse Because this time I'm wrong This time I lose.
For seducing you for my pleasure While my head was on the ground I've deprived you from your leisure To the earth you were bound.
For playing god with your pages When this is no one's book And it will be for the ages Dear poetry, my nook.
I made this poem when I started writing obsessively about a very specific topic. I felt like I had betrayed poetry in a way, or at least the way that I used to write before. Looking back to it, it's about a year and a half old and I feel it has aged well as I re-read it.