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by Ivy Rozen 2 years ago in sad poetry
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I confess it.

Sitting in confession booths

When I believed I could be


Every time I thought of you

Of my shame

Of my guilt

Of my pain

What's in a name?

We may share a last

And we may share the blame

For the sins of the past

Oh sister dear

Yes it's true

I confess

If a girl's shy sweet smile

Earns eternal unrest

And mistrust for the ones

Who's interests weren't her best

Oh blood of my blood

That now runs thin as water

Weren't you the one

Who led me to the slaughter?

Eyes wide and bright

You took me aside

With sisterly spite

You ignored my cries

Forgiveness that I need

Guilt I won't admit

It's true I did concede

When "no" wouldn't make him quit

Oh my only sibling

If I must confess it

If I hadn't had been smiling

If I'd worn a different outfit

Maybe he'd be yours still

Maybe you'd be happy

Maybe it's my fault

Maybe I broke our family

Perhaps I may have prevented

All these years I've been tormented

By this weight upon my chest

Set there by your resentment

I think about the sins of past

And where to place the blame

I think of how we share a last

And guilt, and pain, and shame

Sitting in confession booths

When I believed I could be


Every time I thought of you

But redemption is just a dream

sad poetry

About the author

Ivy Rozen

Writer and poet with published articles, email campaigning experience, teaching experience, and a completed poetry residency with Free Verse, where I finished my first book of poems, Runcation, on sale now at www.IvanaWrites.com

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