Clever Guilt

Guilt is such a wondrous thing, having a life all of it's own Needs nothing to exist, survive, even thrive, breathe, grow Brings new tears of helpless frustration to our troubled eye Before we realize, we are way beyond denial. Guilt grows inside, is fueled by our irreversible mistakes, so We find ourselves totally consumed, without as much as a Warning siren. So like animals transfixed by light, we freeze, Waiting for capture, arrested in flight. Guilt grows swiftly, catches us unawares, sneaks up on our Blind side; masquerades as a harmless, self-inflicted malady A blight on humanity nevertheless, much too late we realize That we are tainted, saddened, contrite. Guilt cannot be assuaged, as hard as we might try, must be Addressed, fought, dealt with as an illness. One might think, Blindly, that guilt is a harmless, benign emotion. Sadly, not. Guilt is alive, grows, as a canker, corrupts our personalities. Guilt feasts on our inner being, rusts our soul, eats us whole. A living, dead thing, preying on our very essence, survives, Strengthened by our so many weaknesses, our soft inability To cope with experience outside our experience. Consuming us from inside out. Clever guilt. Eats our lives.