Resentment
By Michael Jaffrey
The hurt I did you long ago,
still echoes in my silent halls,
bouncing off the dusty walls,
where nameless things with scaly wings,
mutter at it growing fat,
on happiness that might have been.
By Michael Jaffrey
The hurt I did you long ago,
still echoes in my silent halls,
bouncing off the dusty walls,
where nameless things with scaly wings,
mutter at it growing fat,
on happiness that might have been.