Dear parents, <br />I forgive you my life, <br />Begotten in a drab town, <br />The intention was good; <br />Passing the street now, <br />I see still the remains of sunlight. <br /> <br />It was not the bone buckled; <br />You gave me enough food <br />To renew myself. <br />It was the mind's weight <br />Kept me bent, as I grew tall. <br /> <br />It was not your fault. <br />What should have gone on, <br />Arrow aimed from a tried bow <br />At a tried target, has turned back, <br />Wounding itself <br />With questions you had not asked. <br /> <br /> <br />Submitted by Andrew Mayers<br /><br />Ronald Stuart Thomas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sorry-2/
