sorry

i hate myself for always being so wishy-washy and weak. i could never pluck up the courage to say what you always wanted to hear. so many times you know, those words get stuck somewhere in my head and they dont come out. i see your silhoutte at the bus-stop everyday, i too, am tired. i dont know how you keep me up till the wee hours of the night, you constantly remind me of your words and your laughter. i cant promise, but i can hope, to be a better person. if second chances do exist, i pray ever so earnestly, that God give me his guidance.