This kind of certainty

If this is a ghetto,
I'm in it with you
If it's just a prison,
I'm locked in it too
I tried to leave you,
but after all that we had said
I went to pieces when I should have shouted and screamed instead:
So sorry, I said


Your powers of persuasion,
those quizzical eyes
Have tired and tied me, with innocent guile
I would have walked out, and after all the tears we shed
I should have stalked out, gone and painted the town bright red
But instead...