Crying Shame

It has just come to me,
As I lay here thinking,
How sorry it seems to be
And what a crying shame

That I am left behind,
A fish washed up on shore,
A lonely cub separated 
And abandoned by the pack,

My peers have all moved on,
They’ve gone their separate ways,
All romantically involved
With full-time occupations,

And yet I remain here,
Hardly anything has changed,
And I know it’s my fault
So my thoughts fill with shame,

Shame for not moving on,
Shame for being dependent,
Shame for doing half as much,
Shame for not doing enough.

… 

Then something alien occurs,
An unusual thought appears,
That perhaps I have not failed
And I should not feel shameful,

For, truly, what use is there,
What good does having guilt do?
What shame should I ever feel
For taking a different route?


And now do I see what’s true,
That the only crying shame
Lies in my demented brain,
And not what I use it for.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2024

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