I Saw Her Walking
I saw her walking down the street, and I stopped .
Clothes are tattered, old suitcase in her hand.
I approached, she flinched.
“You want to hurt me more? Reject me again?” She said.
“I came to say I'm sorry. Please come home.”
“Until you feel guilty again?”
“No. For the rest of our lives, if you are willing.”
We embrace, go home.
I had to do this.
Had to make it right.
And I will.
Because I need her.
Because the girl is me.