"disobeying" poems
I look again upon the sky as I have done so many times before.
To see the change of natures' palette as sun sinks beyond horizon's floor.
The blue of daytime sky and the wisps of white and mottled gray,
give-way to golden inlaid mauve upon red curtain as amber fades away.
Hues of golden yellow that were present short moments before,
now lost beyond the silhouetted landscape as if cast to distant shore.
Flame upon the heavens, cloud lit as if scattered, precious jewels.
Colours of natures palette so vibrant, disobeying all artistic rules.
silhouettes of birds in flight etched in black upon the fading light,
All traversing in rapid beat of wing, to seek shelter from the night.
Trees and distant vistas mere shadows where sun did slide away,
as palette welcomes the new nighttime bidding farewell to passing day.
Aug 16, 2022
Aug 16, 2022 at 10:32 AM UTC
last night
i came home late
to my mother yelling
i tried to reason
to no avail
she didn't believe any of my words
her hand on my arm
her voice high and loud
she tried to push me inside
she wouldn't listen
tired and angry
i walked away
she followed
then i ran
and ran
and ran
and ran
till i could no longer hear the flopping
of her shoes
behind me.
i had to return later
but the feeling of that run
of disobeying
of my heart beating fast
of my small lasted freedom
is still in my mind
causing me
to want to run once more
and never stop
till i'm so far away
even her in her sliver car
can't find me
i want to run
and run
and run
and run
and i don't wanna ever stop
Aug 11, 2017
Aug 11, 2017 at 4:27 PM UTC
I have been asked of how it may feel to be an Angel,
As I have been created from the soil I do not know,
But verily, I do believe it must be a life without woe
Praying would be amongst the greatest things
With innocence and all its blessings
Praising, chanting in delight, not disobeying
Only the Lord's pleasure they are displaying
They do not know of such as envy
They do not know of such as spite
They are happy, praising him with all his might
Cherishing each word which has been said (By God)
They would happily face death without being afraid,
As long as God is pleased with them,
Righteous, brilliant and with multiple wings
They don't need rest, they serve the king of the kings!
Without having made one single sin,
Shining from being made from light, deep within
Oh how much I wish I could be amongst those...
Take a look at the angels who carry the throne
Not moving an inch, not speaking a tone,
Yet they are proud, yet they wear a smile
Why ? Because it isn't their style, to be displeased with his decree
~ Umi
Dec 19, 2017
Dec 19, 2017 at 5:11 PM UTC
god is the devil and the devil is bob
god is the devil and the devil is bob
god is the devil and the devil is bob
GOD THE DEVIL AND BOB
today bob delahunty visits 3 ladies who preaches god to stop their sons from drinking
the first lady, really gets offended if her son turns off god, mind you, she lets him have
his own beliefs, but in saying that, when he makes jokes about religion, she gets really offended
and says, you should believe in god, god is the powerful being, god is the almighty saviour and
god will be there for you at every turn, and bob came in, and told this lady, that there are
possibilities that god is a myth, and you need your son to have his own beliefs and the lady
got offended for what bob said, and told bob, that god is up there looking over each of us
and i am trying to show my son, that god isn’t powerful, as such, but is a blessing to have
him watch over us, and bob said, you need to understand, religion is a touchy subject ya see
and the lady said your the devil, and she went away singing
god is the devil and the devil is bob
god is the devil and the devil is bob
god is the devil and the devil is bob
GOD THE DEVIL AND BOB
the second lady keeps her 15 year old daughter locked up in the basement because she didn’t trust
the evil spirits around her, you see she hung around these two prostitutes, because they are terribly
nice to her, and her mother didn’t like what she is doing, so she bought these iron chains, to tie the devil
right out of her, and bob said, this is wrong, we must explain to this lady, that god will not condone this
and the lady said in her defines, my daughter hangs with devil people, and bob said, no, you are the devil
i am not saying what she is doing is rightt, but you make them sound good, and chaining your daughter
in your basement is definatlely the wrong solution for you to do, and the lady said to bob, i want my daughter
to understand what she is doing is wrong, she is disobeying gods commands, and until she understands
i have no excuse but to keep her chained in my basement, and bob hit her with a wooden spoon, not enough
to **** just enough to rescue her daughter from her clutches, and after 2 hours, she got to her feet and said
where is my daughter, and bob said, i rescued her from you, and you need to understand that this was wrong
and the lady mumbled to herself saying
god is the devil and the devil is bob
god is the devil and the devil is bob
god is the devil and the devil is bob
GOD THE DEVIL AND BOB
The third lady was a little old lady who loves knitting, but she has really bogus beliefs, you see to her anyone
who drinks, was the devil, and if her son went out drinking, she would get cranky with him, no matter what
age he was, you see she claims the devil was giving her the impression that her son is committing crimes
and behaving like a hooligan, and when her son, tries to speak up for himself, she goes QUIET, we need
our almighty GOD, to save you from the devil’s clutches and her son called bob in, because they can’t keep
going on like this, and bob came in to talk to the old lady, asking her, what makes you think that he is worshipping
the devil, you see it’s possible that he is out having a good time at the club drinking with mates, and the lady said
i was raised to think drinking was the work of the devil and when i think of what young people get up to now, no
i am doing the right thing, protecting my son from the evil drunks, no son of mine is parading around on the streets
like a hooligan and bob said, yeah but, i think he is being a man, to enjoy a few beers with family and the lady said
i don’t care, drinking is the work of the devil, and there is no doubt about it, and bob told her, you must understand
your son, and she said i don’t need to understand him, as she walked away singing
god is the devil and the devil is bob
god is the devil and the devil is bob
god is the devil and the devil is bob
your the devil, bob, don’t deny it, buddy
god is the devil and the devil is bob
god is the devil and the devil is bob
god is the devil and the devil is bob
GOD THE DEVIL AND THE ALMIGHTY BOB, to save everyone from delusions forever
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC
Master builder of hanging audio of the hearts,
Tapping and mapping
a
kind of music through the vocabulary of arts,
in
conducting the harmonious sound of unique violin orchestra
a crowd of fiddlesticks rima …
up… and only ups…
never downs.
Audio
Audio…
I will go…true or false.
That’s what you ask for it. If you ask me to stay, I would never say no.
Have you ever seen me on the occasion of disobeying you?
Neither yes, nor no…
Thirsty and aridity,
Words dance glamorously in the silence of the mud of bricks
You will construct the magic towers of the world gust (crust).
On the apex
Trapper of heights
you
Shaking hand for all ant size human shape creatures
In down.
I’am member among.
Time flies and melts in icy doom of the word “why”… burning agitatedly on the white eyes.
Don’t look at me.
Whatever had been shaped, like thunder of emotional burst digs …digs in insomnia of rapid nightmares
of mine.
O' liberty…
Don’t be dubious of what you are going to do, Master architecture of heavenly domes of long treatise of eloquence and good sounds.
Hissing….sooozzzing….biippping ….buzzzing….moooppping….murmers….
Claps and shouts.
Ant shaped creatures gather under the grand dome and waiting for miraculous mesmerize.
No more I am among.
Master builder of raw materials
in vivid shape of “new oregano (m).”
Time runs and I am not “going to catch a falling star.”
Time of demise.
Heavy lock on mouths. Death of both of us in constructing the luxurious roads never ended in dead end of not being honest and neither being wise.
Master designer of unique arches…domes…abstruse stairs…
Audio…audio. I will go…for you and ours.
Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 12:36 AM UTC
Isn't it funny
How they call you big?
When your limbs were shaking
And your belly's shrunk
All bones from muzzle to tail.
Perhaps the cheerful girl
Wasn't so little for a kid
Under that red hood.
Don't you get mad
When people call you bad?
All you ever did was do
The sickly grandma a favor.
The girl could've done worse
Disobeying the elder's order
And nibbling on half the food
While prancing in the woods.
Don't you get sad
When people call you wolf?
Though you looked more like
A stray dog barging at the hut's door
And a bear after swallowing the two whole
Pretty much misunderstood
By the village and the world
Full of big, bad, wolves.
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 11:07 AM UTC
it was uncomfortably
hot out today
i put my cardboard box
down on the pavement
and squinted into
the midspring sun
grateful for the
knowledge
of the truth
the ukulele truth
and nothing but
the truth
like i could
scream every
johnny cash song
i've never learned
at every pathetic smoker
disobeying the signs
and i understood
oh but did i
understand
why they're always
pushing friday
on midweek radio shows
it's thursday
at 3pm
and guess what?
now we're free
*(to roll in the grass
and soak up the sunshine
or maybe just
take a nap)*
tell your winter
clothes where they
can stuff it
and your hick
christmas lights
to get lost
there's a pitcher
of unsweetened
ice tea with just a
dash of lemon juice
waiting for me when
i get home
and a cracked
front step to
nod off on once
it gets cooler
and even these
june bugs
out in may can't
bring me down.
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 11:39 PM UTC
I don’t know if being pregnant
Was on my mind
Or the fear of being left behind
Unable to rewind,
Back to the time
In which I was able to make good decisions
To think with great precision
To look beyond a short sighted vision.
Taking a risk,
Over someone who doesn’t care for you
Lack of resolve to take care of you
A person who doesn’t care for Love
And I simply paying the price
For disobeying the king above
Because I did wrong instead of doing right
His final straw has been cut,
And unfortunately I am out of luck
****
Yes I am what you call, f****ed
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 11:17 AM UTC
My hands shake and thoughts clash
I revise life, like flashbacks
I won't last living in my past
Pull back, snapping leash he attacks
The scent is strong he's on the prowl
A predator of beings foul
Revenge dished he's hellbound
Took a vow as hellhound
His loyalty holds no borders
He's borderline disobeying orders
He's ordered but he ignores
Okami, a lone wolf
In midnight his eyes shine
Blood red it contains skies
He's hunting down a worthy prize
Defending honour he can't die
Vengeance and fuelled rage
Powerful and untamed
For too long he's been caged
He suffered so, debts be repaid
With head high and hackles raised
He's raising hell, his endgame
All cards held have been played
Run and hide, its too late
May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 6:42 AM UTC
YOU made men to lead the race,
Bequest him with pride and ace;
For him you made the trees and taught him to graze,
Then why O’ lord you put him to this disgrace,
To raze and blaze, the haze and the nature’s face
YOU made him sneak speak and smart,
Bequest him with amazing skills and magnanimous art;
For him you erected the forests and Oakwood’s mart,
Then why O’ lord you put him with that heart,
That preys and disobeys thy inimitable nature’s cart
Whilst razing and blazing, preying and disobeying,
He got bothered of his survival and living;
For him you then again made him to earn the dollar and the sterling,
To put it for the make-up and the filling
But O’ my lord, he, in tranquil kept himself fooling,
That he benefits thy nature with his meager darlings.
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 7:21 AM UTC
Family
A loose term
You might picture a group of people
They look similar
Seem to get along
Eating dinner together
Making small talk
You might picture a group of people
Taking pictures together
Laughing and waiting in line
At a theme park
On vacation
But I picture a group of people
Husband and wife disobeying their vows
Fighting
Tearing the “family” apart
I picture a group of people
Hiding in their separate rooms
Dysfunctional
Mother crying
Father ignoring the world
Delving into the world of football
Or movies
Anything but here
Eldest son gone, he escaped
Youngest son hiding in a cave
His only concern winning a violent game
And me
Trying to make something beautiful
Out of the mess this has become
Trying to make it out alive
Before I can escape too
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 6:08 PM UTC
To live
Seems to mean
To struggle.
Buddha teaches that when we
Release all of our desires
Our expectations
Our assumptions
Then too shall our suffering pass.
There is a part of me which
Cheers
And yet another which
Rails
In response to this.
It seems on the surface to ask
Us to cease to be human.
But isn't that what the search for enlightenment
Is about?
To become something more than human?
To elevate into a higher No-Thing?
However
In this search we forget that
The quest itself is
A desire
An expectation
An assumption
That there is something to
Work
Towards.
Only when we release
Even this need to be
Something other than what
We are
Does that mysterious
Phenomenon happen.
Or does it?
It seems so easy at times
To let go
Let it all slip from my grasp
And find that place
Which is
No place
And
All places at once.
Something always calls me back
And I find myself
Toiling
Stumbling
Struggling
Suffering
And I have to ask
Why?
What pulls on my silver cord
And grounds me back to this
Fleshly cage
With all of its
Aches and pains
Tortures and torments?
I don't understand
Maybe I'm not supposed to
And this grasping
For knowledge
On the whys
Of human suffering
Is just another thing
I must lay by the wayside
Say
Adieu
And never look back.
If only it were that effortless
Perhaps I am distantly related to
Lot's wife.
Destined to become a pillar of salt
When I cannot turn my back on
That which I love.
Disobeying the Divine
Distrusting that there should be no
Last sight
It seems straightforward
The Divine sees what we mortals do not
But if we are all a part of the Divine
Is it impossible for us to know it all as well?
This appears to be the case for the masses
And for me
As I am not a Bodhisattva
Yet.
May 2, 2010
May 2, 2010 at 9:22 PM UTC
Your daughter, you allow her to roam,
While you remain in your drinker's dome.
It's okay because your teenage son
Will watch her while you have your fun.
He doesn't need a happy life,
You've ensured him so much strife.
He should cater to you, **** his spare time,
Disobeying you is a crime.
But you punish in unfair ways,
Screaming, breaking things, making him pay.
You'll regret it some day, I promise,
His children you will come to miss,
For their cheeks will never experience your kiss.
He'll keep them, and himself, far away,
Repaying you for all the days you made him pay.
Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 11:18 AM UTC
My lips kiss the heat in the air, pretending you're holding my swollen hips.
I'm hypnotized by your every move and word.
Yet you come and go like our diseases we hold.
The taste in my mouth burns back to my jaw,
so bitter and raw.
Yet when the sweet lyrics come out of your groin,
I'm back again.
So obedient, I'm disobeying my every lesson. Everything I tell myself not to do
but I'm there at every sound and every smile.
Then it turns cold in literal seconds, and my beaming drops to a hallow fall.
You gain and gain every last drop of my changing sleeves, the heart is hidden in this beast.
And I agonize over the idea that history has repeated myself.
What I swore I would do seems so child-like, that I'm tearing it away.
You're tearing me away, too. And you.
Because no matter how much I know your heart could love,
no matter how little softness you posses,
no matter how many miles separate us,
I'm still left so sharp, so bitter.
Apr 2, 2012
Apr 2, 2012 at 2:58 AM UTC
*I wasn't looking for him
He found me vulnerable
Vulnerability became courtship
Courtship became lust
Lust is now love
Can it happen so easily
Now I have to leave behind
The sweetest love that I've found
Unanswered thoughts
Leaves strong minds limp
Meshed together mistakenly
Torn away violently
Eyes can no longer bare
The water that flows warm
Should I act on impulse
Thoughts telling me so
Nonchalantly disobeying
All pleasures but my own
A minute without
Compares nothing to
A lifetime with
Taking in poisonous air
Nicotine he is
Addicted I am
Giving hearts
Receiving minds
Massaging words
Passes slow times
Running to choosey arms
Coming back for A nu we*
Feb 16, 2011
Feb 16, 2011 at 6:57 PM UTC
*I think we ruin children by telling them
Crying is bad
When crying is being vulnerable
An expression of pain so natural
So they grow up to be ashamed of emotions
I think we ruin children by telling them
They have to become someone
When being themselves is already being someone
So they grow up wanting to be someone they are not
I think we ruin children by telling them
Disobeying the rules is inexcusable
When sometimes breaking the rules,
Is freeing one’s self from the expectations of others
So they grow up to feel insecure in the face of uncertainty
I think we ruin children by telling them
Monsters are supernatural creatures
When monsters can also take form in humans
Who exploit, manipulate and trample on others
So they grow up unable to confront even their own monsters
For how could something so unimaginable take form in themselves?
I think we ruin children by telling them
Punishment is discipline
Spanking, verbal fear to shut them up good and easy
When there is a thing called gentle discipline
One that requires less pain and more understanding
So they grow up to become aggressors
Believing they are heroes who save others from disorder
I think we ruin children by telling them
School is the best way to getting around life
Drowning in grades, homeworks and activities just to get by
When experience teaches far more important lessons
School can only teach in words
So they grow up to believing the good life is a tried
And tested pattern and there are no other ways to live
I think we ruin children by telling them
To avoid fears instead of confronting them
When the dark, cockroaches, dogs, can be overcome
So they treat fear as an enemy
Instead of being a friend, a lesson
One that teaches them to be braver, to be stronger
I think we ruin children by telling them
What you wear is what you are
Frills and laces for girls, ties and pants for boys
When anyone can wear just what the **** they want
Clothing is a choice in as much as who they want to be
So they grow up confined by what the crowd is wearing
Fearing any diversion would make them odd
I think we ruin children
By making them believe that success
Comes in fancy clothes, cars, a truckload of money
When happiness is the real mark of a well lived life
I think we ruin children
By telling them being alone is a shameful thing
When the key to understanding one’s self
Is through the painful yet productive solitude
That people so likely shame
So they grow up believing their happiness
Is in other people’s hands
I think we ruin children
By telling them outer strength is the real strength
When there are children who
Cannot lift their own chairs
But have the strongest, bravest hearts
Fighting their way into sad days
Like the heroes that they are
I think we ruin children mostly and importantly
By believing
That they are wrong
That they are too young to understand
When all the while
We could have been wrong
Age makes us not wiser
Just older
And so children lose their capacity to see things brightly
And the biggest chunk of the world’s dreamers are then silenced
By adults who never really believed in the magic of the world
As much as the kids do
So how do we ruin children, really?
By telling them being themselves
Is the least they could ever want
By telling children
That being who they are will never be right
*
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 2:56 PM UTC
Your 'Top TRP' news team has just learnt that
A consortium of fanatics and hypocrites now claim
That the proprietorship of 'God' is now with them
And will spew hatred on anyone disobeying them.
Our unnameable “reliable” sources tell us that
Anyone desiring to worship 'God' “more perfectly,”
Henceforth, must follow their rules quite strictly
Or floggings will be handed out quite promptly.
Our brave insider informants have divulged that
At last have awaken our pious priests and scholars
To discuss these “disturbing new developments;”
But they're upset most about lost revenue streams.
The atheists were seen rejoicing and saying that
There is no need any more, *“for us to self-promote
While our competitors repeatedly self-mutilate.”*
But have they forgotten, Stalin also preached hate?
Our unquestionably reliable survey tells us that
We are angry, sad, glad, disgusted and also clueless
In roughly equal measure. But most are just curious:
“How all this bla-bla will effect commodity prices?”
There was however, an 'odd' man who said that
God is Love and God does not hate. Will turn to rust
He who chooses hate. *“Not in someone's deep pocket
Will I find God. But God I'll find, always in my heart.”*
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 9:19 AM UTC
The best things happen after autistically
planning, but doing something else, as
long as it keeps handing me sunlight and
some feet to walk, I'll keep walking.
It has always been my dream, but, secretly,
shamefully, I will never dare, losing things
dear to me and ideals. I walk across
a waterway and find my luck in the sudden
movements of two ducks, refreshing in that
very water. Neighbours working, greeting strangers,
children disobeying their mothers.
And old man on the bus comments, I sit
I read, look up, search for the right words and
stop reading.
Quentin felt infinite, so I wanted to let that feeling last.
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 8:26 AM UTC
Unintentionally void and constantly in a vortex of disobeying laws, morals, drinking too much.
Struggling with figuratively wearing my seat belt but getting in the car anyway.
**** IT. I'LL HEAD FOR THE HILLS.
I slam my foot on the gas peddle.
Skull through the windshield.
Crashed into a tree.
In a drunken masquerade, I'm picking all of the pieces up from the wreckage around me.
And forgive me, because I forgot how beautiful that hour long drive was.
Forgive me because those car accidents weren't and left pieces of me on the highway.
Because I'm working towards the day where I will never let green lights scare the **** out of me again.
Trying to find the rest of my pieces solemnly and natural.
Trying to get my license by next week.
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 9:28 AM UTC
What have I done but obey the cynical dogma that plagues the patriots?
(then to be rewarded with the cutting rattle of the guns
that dehumanised the holiest saints.
MIA the pawn who obeyed.)
Can we sacrifice to "the Cause", for the end?
(without the other side sacrificing more.
Men should press toward the enemy.
We will win because ten minus one equals nine
Rip the glorified general.)
Possibly **** the man I call brother for hesitation.
(with the gun that conscripted me to his side.
"killed for the disobeying of orders".
They will say that I was a traitor
But never a man of his country
RIP the brother that hesitated.)
Justify the sin that will be forced upon my brother.
(As I will not commit the sun that will be forced upon me.
RIP the holy deserter.)
The multination of a child.
(Thats what Devils do.
That's what they did to me.
Destroying what I took for granted.
RIP the young amputee.)
Glorification of the war as some sort of game.
("Come sign up you be a hero"
I lied in front of them
But back then I even believed myself.
RIP the gulibal propagandist)
In war winning is living
(Yet not a one I am willing to play.
RIP the veteran)
Destruction of the family tree
(Destiny was not prepared for the irrational.
RIP the mother that worried)
What can possibly justify the glorification in destruction?
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 5:22 PM UTC
In the world, conflicts are strong
In this world, there's so much that's wrong
In our world, no one is giving
And in my world, nothing is living
My world is plain,
A simple black and white
All is monotonous with disdain
And then you came into my sight
My world burst with life
Rainbows and no strife
All my wishes were coming true
All of this because of you
We journeyed together
Continuing with our lives
Unaware of what awaited us
On the other side
The moonlight shone bright
And though the stars were dim
I could see what reality did to you
In that pool of red you laid in
Your hands were cold
Clutched to the blade that pierced our souls
For you were leaving this world of colour
Bringing it back into darkness but now with three colours
Black
The colour of my sorrow
My soul could no longer stay pure
There's nothing left to live for
Because I had lost my light
It is a chore
A curse, a suffering
I want to end it all with the very same blade
But I know you would want me to stay strong
White
When I go back in time
Thinking about summertime
When we danced with joy and laughter in our eyes
As our lips clash, knowing that you're there will suffice
For meeting you in dreams
Whenever I manage to escape from reality
I run to you, arms wide open
But my arms close into empty space
Red
Like all the light,
There are also darkness
Like the nights that I cry in my sleep
Awaking to the smell and feel of blood
My arms are sticky and my eyes are red
Bloodshot, exhausted and depressed all over again
Every day, I go through this grief
Now I hold my weapon, trembling beyond belief
I'm sorry for disobeying your final wish
That I wouldn't take my own life
But now listen to my death wish
There is no longer any point in life
Because with your soul leaving this godforsaken world
You took my heart and my spirit
Along with my world.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 5:55 AM UTC
I don't know what to do?
How can I feel your earth below my feet again,
After a thousand years of being alone?
Without disobeying the wishes of my family?
How can I love you?
How can an old Soul travel to a young Miracle?
How can I touch a re-born Seoul?
My only way to love you.
Is to show the world,
How beautiful you are,
How a Phoenix has risen,
From the ashes of war.
Is love worth taking the chance?
A chance of dying before I can ever return home,
My home of a thousand years, Joseon!
The home that I was cursed to remember forever,
An impossible love that I can never say goodbye to,
A Love that will last for eternity.
Copyright © 2016 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 8:44 PM UTC
She knows the rules of this love game off by heart,
Contents within the cardboard box confines,
The plastic packaging keeping her safe and in place,
No enthusiastic shaking from the outside can dislodge a single item.
But inside,
Inside the box,
She causes mischief,
A misplaced piece substituted awkwardly,
A wrongly folded rule sheet,
A rip in a playing card,
A weighted dice,
A swear word scrawled,
Pieces in the wrong places.
Sabotaging for personal gain,
Disregarding temporarily the personal loss,
The thrill of naughtiness,
Disobeying the rules,
The knowing smile from both parties,
Push a little, push, push, stop,
Tidy up and put away,
A stern look,
A short sharp reminder,
No game playing the game states.
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 4:21 PM UTC
seems like i always fall short.
that I'm always messing up.
and yet you still can love me?
its a fact though,
that i turn and run directly from you
and yet you still wait for me.
i see it happening.
I see me deliberately disobeying.
and yet you forgive me.
it makes me so sick.
to think what pain I've caused.
and yet you never give up on me.
Jul 5, 2012
Jul 5, 2012 at 10:09 PM UTC