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.
Copyright © Ray Harris | Year Posted 2014
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