Guilt Poem - Poem by Jack Ashenden
Guilt, a passion of the prideful soul
Does act as a shield to the grim reality
Spiritually, we are all unwhole
Victims of materialism, mere earthly fatalities.
We tell ourselves we are good
Kind, respectful, worthy of respect
Yet although goodness may once have stood
All that we are rot doth affect.
An inability to work
To concentrate on things of import
Shows that inside we hurt
Pleasures we indulge a last resort
Are we still good, still pure as snow?
The simple answer is clearly NO.
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