by Kirill Coda
I look out onto the world and wonder
what it would be like not to plunder
or even buckle under,
under the weight of all my blunder
one's mind does ponder—
what if I could turn back time,
back to when I was at my prime
and maybe commit a victimless crime,
or I could just apologise...
But for what, I did what any man would do.
I listened to my words much like poetry,
much like the words of a decree,
no man would disagree,
that the burden of history
is the world's greatest misery.
Note: This poem was submitted to Words Much Like Poetry via our project on WEbook.
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