Truly Her's

Gathering my thoughts, I put pen to paper,

Wondering if of all the reasons, "Is it her"?

Anyhow some poetry was long due,
Surprisingly even she had a similar point of view.

This poem was supposed to be with her tonight,
Who cares about the poem, but to make things worse I have also been deprived of her sight.

I had planned out a few things in my head,
Perhaps they'll stay up here till I'm dead.

Fare thee well, as you travel to the countryside,
Ashamed as I wasted my chance to stand up and be counted and instead chose to hide.
I hope the plans in my head have a short life,
Cause all I do is add to the strife.

Muddled and confused inside my head,

The only solution I can find is going back to bed.

I pity myself and only bring trouble onto others,
Fare thee well, as this poem is truly her's.