You were cold I blamed you You were dead I blamed me You looked mute I felt deaf I blamed her Or was I deaf? You were gone No one to blame I was alone With you still there. I went back home And you looked The other way.
“Scruple” derives from scrupŭlus, small stone. If you get a stone in your shoe, you’ll be uncomfortable. Today scruples make you hesitate when confronted with a moral choice.
This poem is halfway between David Allen and Charles Bukowski.
This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
Escribe tu dirección y recibirás en tu correo electrónico las nuevas entradas. Sin publicidad. Entre tú y yo.
Write your email here and you'll receive my posts in your inbox, directly. No spam, no publicity. Just you and me.
Tu email / Your email
¡Me apunto! / Subscribe