Half-Word
by clippedtrust
· 20/12/2025
Published 20/12/2025 17:10
The child's mumble,
a small, forced sound.
A 'sorry', a crumble,
hitting hard ground.
I heard it then,
my own voice thin.
A tight knot within,
where truth should have been.
A shoulder turned.
The air went sour.
A lesson unlearned,
lost in that hour.
The word, dry ash.
No weight. No lift.
Just a quick flash.
A hollow, empty gift.