Mistakes, I’ve Made a Few
Will you forgive me?
That may not matter. I want you to hold me accountable. That’s no mindless chatter. I’m in tatters.
I want you to know that I’m sorry. My anger was my downfall, and you became the victim. I thought I had ’em beat; I wish I could’ve kicked ’em to the curb, these bad habits of mine, but they keep on appearing. You thought I’d overcome them; this is what you were fearing.
Talk is cheap and words are plenty. This isn’t the first time; it’s more like number twenty,
That I said I wouldn’t do this or that and promised to be true, like the leaves of Autumn that fall from the trees, I wish I’d turn over new.
I have to reconcile my thoughts with my actions, because lost in translation between these transactions are the factions I’ve created. I guess we could call them distractions; they’ve caused confusion and delusion and negative reactions.
Will I be true to my word and change these interactions?
I made a mistake. But to you it was much more than that.
I seem to have left a wound. I seem I’m not myself these days, like a guitar that’s not in tune. But give me time, I said, I’ll change my ways, and so you took my word. But that was just lip service; I know you must have heard.
I hadn’t yet gotten to the root of what was wrong. Telling the truth is like a muscle; you have to work to make it strong.
The truth will set you free. You know you’ll feel it in your heart; lies will make you crazy, and they’ll tear us right apart.
So I better stop wasting time, and while I spit this rhyme you’ll see, a man who will really turn the corner and become who I’m destined to be.
I apologize for hurting you; this time I am sincere. I won’t go back to my ways of the past; I’ll hold our future dear, because I’ve seen the light, although it’s trite, the heart of life is good. I’d go back and change all the times that I hurt you, if only I could.
But all we have is motion, and there ain’t no magic potion to remedy this angry emotion which has caused all this commotion.
So let’s live in the moment and plan for what’s to come. Together we’ll improve our parts, and then we’ll have a sum that we’ll multiply, care for and nurture like a child. We’ll write our own sweet poetry like our name was Oscar Wilde.
And on we’ll go; we won’t look back or stare in the abyss. I thought I’d end this poem here, but then I’d be remiss.
See, these days I live in victory and not the agony of defeat. I finally learned about mistakes, never again to repeat.
Thank you!
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