Over here

The splinters are there
and sting
like I’d done something wrong.
My whole life
all I’ve done was try,
making easy attempts
and even better excuses
while those who’ve tangled
have already forgotten
and it’s me
that’s unrecognized.
Always there
like you were sure
you’d met me
some other time
in some other place.

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About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

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