adventures in dysthymia

Tuesday, August 31, 2004

REASONS

We had our reasons, though not good ones, really--
they never are. You know the ones I mean;
you've whispered them each secret night and seek
no others now. Excuses hurt far less
that truths, our truths that failed to make us free.
I'll say no more but in the hidden book
of my heart all these things are written down.
Take it from its dusty shelf some day,
remembering again we had our reasons.

Stephen Brooke ©2004

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