I’m sorry, my Father, for I have strayed,
Too long are years vestibulized.
I’m sorry father, I know it is wrong,
To make up new words, revitalized. Still,

I’m sorry my Mother, for I’m depraved,
So many years, they all seemed the same.
I’m sorry mother, I know it’s wrong,
To make up new words, unethically. Maybe,

I’m sorry, my Sister, for I have sinned,
I can’t remember, when it all began.
I’m sorry sister, I know you’re dead,
Making up words, unrejuvenated. While,

I’m sorry my Brother, for we’ll never win,
Eternities tempered, poetics read.
I’m sorry brother, I know it’s wrong,
To make up new words, unequivocally. And

I’m sorry, my You, You forgot your name,
Repetition is Hell, and then it’s the same.
I’m sorry further I haven’t the touch,
To soften the blow, to be rebuffed. So,

I’m sorry again, and Again and again,
What’s gone is Gone, like it always is.
I’m sorry other, I know it’s wrong,
To wake up Words, to be Nonplussed.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 2/3/2012