Forgive My Guilt
Not always sure what things called sins may be,
I am sure of one sin I have done.
It was 10 years ago when I was a young child,
I sat on the floor, marker in hand, ready but not for fun.
The rapid beating of my heart signaling me to charge,
Charge at the doll that was so effortlessly fooling with my mind.
Forcing me to think horrid thoughts I never knew I could.
This doll was my stepsister’s who was not my kind.
Towards, the doll I ran to end this evil madness,
Stabbing the markers, and piercing the plastic shield of the doll.
But WAIT… someone was coming.
Someone from down the hall.
My stepsister walked in like a ghost that had awaked,
She spotted the wrecked doll and fell to the ground in tears.
Her face swelled up as if she were to explode in just a few mere seconds.
I had felt as if I had won and herd people’s cheers.
Although I had felt that sense of victory,
I had felt a tug of guilt.
She was crying right in front of me,
At the madness that I had built.
For days and days I tried to gain forgiveness,
But life went on and she did not
This guilt was there like a permanent thought.
Comments about this poem (Forgive My Guilt by stephanie Boccia )
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