I rarely considered the idea that I was wrong,
Although in hindsight, I doubt I was ever right,
Whether I do it in poem, reason or song
I wish to rectify myself in your loving sight.
For I have come to realise that
If it's me you begin to despise,
Then I have nothing good to show of any part of me.
For you were the fairest of me,
And I, the worst of myself
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