Why aren't you moved by me?
Letters are dry leaves and words hang dead in the bitter chill.
Here, Apology waits - a shivering child on your doorstep.
Breath is fragile but persists in dull earnesty -
Remaining only with frosty ambition that drags its feet through the leaves,
Laden on the shoulders of pale hope.

Why aren't you moved by me?
Torrents lash at the familiar cobblestone and the streets are bare.
Here, Apology stands - alone, at your gate.
Feverish eyes gaze upward and cold iron stares back -
The knife that carves into the void and disposes old sentiments,
Flickering candles almost at end.

Why aren't you moved by me?
Marigolds lay withered and the ribbon falls limp against wet stone.
Here, Apology sits - a wearied martyr at your expense.
Quivering resolution pulses - then falls still in the dusk....
Inhale and exhale cling feebly on the verge of a dim heartbeat,
Quietly...quietly enduring against relentless odds.

Why aren't you moved by me?
Night folds into dawn but the sunrise caresses a cold face.
Here, Apology sleeps - tender eyes glazed over with what once was.
Surrender comes in easy in the morning calm -
Holy relief after your neglect in those final breathes,
Heaven receives with open arms.