Apologies
Posted By: SeverianofUrth<severn117@gmail.com>
Date: 28 October 2005, 6:25 pm
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"Now, again, there lay the darkness
sepulchral (or so Hugo said);
and a calm soaked the land
like beer seeping through cake,
or rum staining fruitcake,
or sauce staining steak,
A-I's the way to go.
Tabascos aside, here's the truth:
I have sinned and so have you.
You have killed and I have..."
And he laid down his pen.
He coudln't get his damn apologies right.
Sorries couldn't be so hard, but
obliviously it was, for he
found it hard.
The paper was there, on the desk
he was there before the paper.
What could he do?
Got himself a shotgun glass,
morning drink at seven before sunrise,
poets have needs to.
A real man doesn't give in to his emotions:
a real man drinks. Snorts cocaine.
So sayeth King.
When the glass was empty
he started writing again,
felt the liquid soak through
his bones as he wrote.
"An apology, to thee:
sorry about everything.
I didn't want to, you know,
but I had to.
Sorry dear my love,
had to sell our kid.
Its gonna be a good life,
a hard life,
but better for him in the end.
They are going to call him a
Spartan."
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