A Poem Not Written on Paper

On paper this is not written.
The verses have just been sung.
My tears have not yet dried.
The storys' just begun
Don't be stubborn within reading
These words that I am singing
The wisdom of a pacifist
Now bite your tongue young girl.
There is proof that I have instigated
This dreadful fight between two friends.
And I do see you crying
But this is where the story ends.
Not with a double suicide;
A tragic story of love
But a single Seppuku;
a played out role for you.
I understand your hurting
And I'm not blind, I see your pain
And I am the only one to blame
But I'm feeling just the same.
I'm crying with a reason
As my tears fall out of season.
As I'm thinking about this role I'm about to play.
Have you not picked up on the lines?
I admit to these crimes.
And I beg forgiveness from an unwilling victim.
Victim of a tragic thing called betrayal.
I see you on the window sill
Your so quiet, and just so still,
But blood mixed with salt runs down the wall,
and you do not answer when I call.
Too vain to be loved, and too vain to care,
I'm sorry I was hiding,
When you really needed me there.
I didn't mean the words that were said.
So I grab this knife and take it back,
But you want to leave things at that.
Lost, and crying, I stand there alone.
Hoping one day you will come back to my heart
And call it home.