Musings, Poetry

You Owe Me

Let it be known,
That you’re with no thing.
Let it be told,
That you owe me nothing.

But let me tell you,
That you sowed in me something.
Let me tell you,
That you owe me something.

You owe me the hours,
That I spent with chagrin
You owe me the flowers,
That I placed within.

You owe me the worries,
That I devoted to you,
You owe me the stories,
That I so willingly told you.

You owe me my breaths,
Which I let go as sighs.
You owe me the deaths,
That I died in disguise.

You owe me the walks,
That I travelled with you.
You owe me the talks,
That I shared with you.

You owe me the sleep,
Which never returned to me,
You owe me the weep,
Which now burns in me.Β 

You owe me the nights,
That I stayed awake for.
You owe me the lights,
And who I lit them for.

– Funadrius

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4 thoughts on “You Owe Me

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