This poem will start with an “I’m sorry”

But it will not be meant 

Because yes it hears the birds chirping

And sees the flowers sway in the warmed breeze

The sun is shining upon its face

But the same sun burns and ages the skin

The heart of this poem does not sing

Its words are darker than just blue

It sees the storm as it approaches

This poem welcomes the rain

Tonight the moon will not be missed

But encouraged to hide

To drift in darkness

This poem will not request comfort

Or offer the same

No cream to decrease the heat 

No chaser to ease the sting

This poem is not meant to enlighten

It will remain bold

And self indulgent

With words that do not play

Or pass hints of fulfillment 

This poem is not caring about you

It is oblivious

And it seeks purpose in its own pain

You will not find a rhyme in this poem

A key to enter and a sign to leave 

Dance if you must

But to a rhythm that is not present

You will be clumsy and lose all balance 

This poem will not explain why

This poem will not save you from yourself

It was not created to please you

Or to be read

And for that...

“I’m sorry”