Posted in Poetry, Written Works

Selfishness

Sometimes I wonder,
If we were still friends,
Would things be different?
Would things be better,
For you and for me?

Believe me, I feel it:
A twinge of guilt,
For that act of selfishness;
For turning you away,
When you least expected.

But you know what?
Time is an anesthetic,
To numb the old wounds.
I can always rationalize,
But I’ll always realize.

The cruel, cruel selfishness
I doubted from time to time.
That same selfishness, I see,
So out of character for me,
Is a permanent part of you.

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2 thoughts on “Selfishness

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