Doesn’t Cut It
I admit I was a bit lazy,
But I never thought you’d get crazy.
I couldn’t help but yell,
How could I know it’d be hell?
I couldn’t help but feel attacked,
And then my soul, it cracked.
The fear and pain it stopped my breath,
You don’t understand, it’s a kind of living death.
So I’ll hold my breath and count to ten,
And hope I can breathe again.
My lungs they’re heavy in my chest,
And it doesn’t help that I’m stressed.
I was wrong I know,
But now we make an angry tableau.
I curled up in the corner,
Like some pathetic mourner.
Your thank you doesn’t mean anything now.
Cause I feel like a sitting duck in the sight of a bow.
Just because I did what you asked,
Doesn’t mean I feel less like an outcast
All I wanted was your apology,
But you’d never admit to it honestly.
Just say your sorry,
That’s all it’ll take to appease this jury.
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