Egoisticus Poem by Alex Aamoth

Sitting, starIng, looking at what I have done,
This is what I deserve for doing what I hAve done.
He was only a witness, nothing More, to what you made me do.
It iS your fault, not mine, for what I did.
She caused this, this which I cannOt take back.
Dripping, dropping, coloRs of a setting sun.
Why must I do this, this which can't be undone?
They caused this, I didn't deseRve this.
I can't escape what this will cause, it's impossible.
This which theY caused.