I’m too sleepy to write my journal for today, so here’s a poem I wrote instead. Yes, yes, I have written about guilt before, but this one is called “Guilty”, so there is a difference, albeit of one letter. Enjoy. 🙂
I never want to do it.
Mind’s eye ever wanders through it.
And with my eye I eye my transgression,
Forgiven but I just can’t lose this depression.
It’s a question of oppression no repression an obsession–
Like a judge with a gavel in his hand,
To crush the man who just can’t stand–
To hold his head up.
It’s a cup from which I supped.
But the food is deadly,
A deadly medley of deathly.
I hear things scream in my head.
They’re here, right beside my bed.
I get out of bed, walk with feet of lead.
Blink once, blink twice, I see red.
It’s a cold that gnaws away inside.
I’m cold but I was only just fried.
Praying, waiting, just hoping it’ll heal
Slaying, breaking, I’m crushed by its heel
Daily I say, and when I don’t I lay–
Thinking about the lack of a way
I look clean, but I feel filthy
In my teens, but I sound fifty
I’ve been freed–
But I am guilty