I'm sorry that I hear him,
that I do the things he asks
It's really nothing to do with you
but i'm sorry I carry out these tasks
They hurt me more than they hurt you
But it's a hurt I need to feel
For the pain you made me bury
has had a lifetime to congeal
And now it's putrid and rotting
It contaminates my life
I try each day to bleed it out
my only friend, my knife.
I feel guilty for the things he did
but it shouldn't be that way
I'm disgusted by my inner self
a heap of moulding decay.
And so what, he talks to me
when no-one else can hear
He tells me to do these things
which seem to you severe
I'm sorry that your angry,
I'm sorry for your fear.
But truthfully, most importantly,
I'm sorry that I'm here!
Author notes
It's a bit pedestrian but whatever...
kick me out if you must
A contest entry
- Guilt (prewrites welcome) by Danna Hobart.
400 points, ended January 18, 16 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Your meter is not bad, but your imagery is underdeveloped.
Thank you for entering my contest.
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