I don’t know if I can take it
Someone else leaving
Not so soon
I know this is a sorry excuse for a poem
And certainly no fine speech
I guess it’s just me begging
On my knees
On my face
Groveling in the dirt-
Where I seem to belong-
Pitiful, not to you
But maybe to whatever creature hears my course crying in the creaking wake of dawn...
To you I say:
This is my begging
Hear it well
My heart cannot take another sword-
I have only just bandaged from the first