You left me for dead,
You beat me until blood was gushing down my face,
You bastard, you drunken fool,
You dragged my name through the gutter,
You took your sweet revenge,
That I could never forget,
My pride and ego which has defended me,
Which has protected me when no one else would,
It will not let me forget,
We've fought and fought and fought,
And stabbed and stabbed and stabbed,
But through it all,
Despite it all,
We built a life of great memories,
Can we just pretend it all never happened?
And know that it was the desire for more that killed us?
Why not let the bell ring?
And go another round in hopes that it can get better.
Go another round?
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD
© March 2015