The Blame

If I take it all,
the blame, the responsibility,
the shame, the inability
to change,
will you be satisfied?

If I agree that it wasn't you,
but always and only me
who could not clearly see
what a treasure you are,
may I be forgiven?

No, I thought not.
Because we both know
it is not true. We both
know that it was you
who abandoned our love.

Nothing I can say or do
will ever change or ring true
all the lies I gladly ate for you.

I was never mentally fit to play
the games you strung out day by day,
nor, now, to believe a single word you say.

In the end, though, I take it all,
I accept the blame for our love that fall,
that autumn breeze that blew my heart
skittering like a leaf down a road in the dark.

It was my decision, it is my fault
that our love now lies in a granite vault,
waiting and hoping for resurrection day.

It was my wrong, it is my sin and shame
that goad me now into accepting blame
for finally having the courage to walk away.

© Francisco G. Rodriquez, 2012