For the poems I started

This one is for the poems I started but couldn’t finish.

This is for the things I asked for and the things I didn’t.

This one is for the lies you told, and the ones still hidden.

This is for all you stole and for all I’ve given.

This one is for the poems I started and couldn’t finish.

This is for the ones who loved me and the ones who couldn’t.

For the silence I heard from the ones who wouldn’t.

This is for the peace I found when I felt I shouldn’t.

For the words I wrote when there was no-one looking.

This one is for the poems I started.