Wednesday, 18 April 2012

Wrong

Twiddling thumbs by the Wey River, I hang my head down. I wasn't expecting anyone but I wished I were. It was all hopeless, knowing that I'd done wrong and not been able to fix it.

A boat chugs down the Wey River. It disperses the gaggle of ducks which were swimming peacefully.

The realisation of futility dawned upon me; I can't fix things - I can't fix the mistakes I made and my conscience and others' consciences were judging me. You're so stupid - so damn stupid.

No comments:

Post a Comment