to L.N.
You gave me so much,
but I couldn't take it.
Like it wasn’t your gift,
Like it was something
passing, fleeting, empty,
unnoticed by feeling,
by sight, by hands.
Like it wasn’t you,
like it wasn’t me,
like you were never mine.
And if something's beyond,
I can't say I believe,
but I’ll hold onto it,
just in case,
maybe one day,
we’ll find each other,
in some random moment,
in some random place,
and I’ll ask you again
for your forgiveness.
random place
© Copyright: Эл Стайнберг, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125031408460
Свидетельство о публикации №125031408460
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