365 Days of Poetry: Day Two-Hundred and Sixty-Three

one cannot force the end.
I tried, and while the blood is sweet.
he would not be better off.
and I realized it in time.

these things outside myself don’t matter.
as much as I would like, because.
fixing a life of hatred.
is not an easy thing.

I have no will to be selfish.
the path was not mine.
but I took it anyway.
this corner seemed too penned in.

repent, and show me mercy,
please. I will take more pain but,
he cannot live well.
if I am gone.