I'm Sorry
You say you miss the good old days
When I was sweet; an angel.
So what happened to me?
I grew up—
Life isn’t all about flowers and the sun.
Life is more than feelings and guns.
I’m not perfect,
And you can’t make me.
I’m as perfect
As I can be.
Getting me was your punishment
For wishing I’d be an angel.
Don’t look now,
But I think my halo’s broken.
The Devil’s calling me to hell.
Each tear I shed is an apology for my sins;
I’m sorry for everything I’m not
Because I can’t change,
And you’ll always find a fault in me.
8/12/05
'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`
I wrote this last night. Matt was clearly really "tight" after work, and my mom and dad were telling him to loosen and stuff. They said other stuff that made me just want to yell at them to shut up and stuff.... A while ago, when I got a new comforter (it's black on one side, sandy on the other....... I WAS considering the black and red one, but it wasn't in the right size), my parents started talking about stuff as if I wasn't even there, listening to them talk about me like that. They offically labeled me as "goth", as I said before, and my my dad said something that I put in this poem: "Getting me was your punishment for wishing I’d be an angel". That sentence haunts me. I cried myself to sleep that night and last night. I know my parents don't like how I turned out, and they know that they can't change it. But it's just a lasting guilt in me that I didn't make them proud, that I don't make them proud. But as I said, they will always find a fault in me...
EDIT: I took out a few lines so that more people can relate to this, and not just me.... aren't I nice? ^_^. It does feel like it's missing something, though.
When I was sweet; an angel.
So what happened to me?
I grew up—
Life isn’t all about flowers and the sun.
Life is more than feelings and guns.
I’m not perfect,
And you can’t make me.
I’m as perfect
As I can be.
Getting me was your punishment
For wishing I’d be an angel.
Don’t look now,
But I think my halo’s broken.
The Devil’s calling me to hell.
Each tear I shed is an apology for my sins;
I’m sorry for everything I’m not
Because I can’t change,
And you’ll always find a fault in me.
8/12/05
'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`
I wrote this last night. Matt was clearly really "tight" after work, and my mom and dad were telling him to loosen and stuff. They said other stuff that made me just want to yell at them to shut up and stuff.... A while ago, when I got a new comforter (it's black on one side, sandy on the other....... I WAS considering the black and red one, but it wasn't in the right size), my parents started talking about stuff as if I wasn't even there, listening to them talk about me like that. They offically labeled me as "goth", as I said before, and my my dad said something that I put in this poem: "Getting me was your punishment for wishing I’d be an angel". That sentence haunts me. I cried myself to sleep that night and last night. I know my parents don't like how I turned out, and they know that they can't change it. But it's just a lasting guilt in me that I didn't make them proud, that I don't make them proud. But as I said, they will always find a fault in me...
EDIT: I took out a few lines so that more people can relate to this, and not just me.... aren't I nice? ^_^. It does feel like it's missing something, though.
posted by Megan at 8:47 PM
1 Comments:
your right I love your poems.... so far..... I am going to read the rest when I can.... I'm going to sleep and I won't be back until sunday or monday..... well LOVED THE POEM!!!!! and thanks for your comment on mine... I just added one if you want to look at it..... well night!!!!!
♥ Akasha
Post a Comment
<< Home