Sorry is that wily word
we’ve been imploring to appear
for far too long.
Terse is not what we are, nor unheard,
nor how we got here,
but it’s where we’re going wrong.
So look with open arms okay?
I’ll listen with a kiss
of life to revive
a love duck-sitting in harm’s way.
Welcome me back baby from this-
I want to feel alive.
I’ve been carefree, but it was lonely,
nothing’s ever filled me with such fire
as being shackled to you.
So I’ll show you what you’ve shown me,
that this world can be quite the liar
and quite the teacher too.
And when the sands of sorrow
get too hot in the Depsaira desert,
do not be my mirage.
Be my thing of beauty, but not my tomorrow.
Be my today, be overt:
A warts ‘n’ all corsage.