I know a five-letter word that shouldn’t
warrant forgiveness, or second chances;
where it cannot make things right and
claim a statement forgotten.
It is difficult to picture the look on your face,
or imagine the emotions your eyes express;
and then decide what needs to be done
about a choice unwittingly forced from you.
You give me what I don’t deserve,
reprieve on a silver platter; no strings
attached, competely free, mistake dismissed.
How can I tell you that I don’t need it?
A fire in the cinema cannot convince me
to leave my seat in the best scene of a film,
even with the exit right beside me; but
maybe I’m stubborn that way.
Maybe I’m not ready to go and decide
if I value my life more than I value the film,
and the stupidity is astounding as believing in
fictional characters that save the day.
So don’t let the fire die out with your water;
don’t pull me from my seat to save me,
I don’t need it and I don’t want it.
Open the door, leave, don’t look back.