When you’re lying
on your death-bed.
Looking back on
the life you have led.
Will you have regrets
about the things
you could never forget?
The troubles that you
laid at the door
of the ones
who knew the score.
Still they opened up
their arms
to embrace you
and all your charms.
They never said
that you were no good.
But that they
had understood,
you were different
but kind.
A sufferer of an
overactive mind.

black and white man young lonely
Photo by jim jackson on Pexels.com

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