Guilt

Twisted and mangled like disregarded wrappings strewn across a bare floor, this guilt mangles and twists me into a shape, devoid of the man, I was before.

 Ash grey skin as bleak and lifeless as floating body, once walked with pinker complexion, now floats and swirls face down, lost to all, a sad reflection.

 Hindsight, its torturous memory, taunts with constant projection, of the once possible, now unobtainable choices, of a wiser, direction.

 Eyes haunted with pasts entity, possess all the answers, but none of the keys, lost in times forgotten, to open seas.

 Guilt a burden, mine`s deserved, forgiveness a virtue, or so I’ve heard.

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.

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