Guilty…

It was the story of her life…
Stolen moments and memories…

All those choices she made…
Became secret documentaries…

Where only her eyes filmed it…
And only her heart knew the truth…

Of a once pure soul tainted…
Unrecognisable from her youth…

A time where balance existed…
Right and wrong was clear…

Until the voices started to whisper…
And the blurring began to appear…

Out of sight, out of mind…
What they don’t know won’t hurt…

But as the gravity grew stronger…
The dark pull left her inert…

She was unable to think straight…
She was unable to walk away…

Lust was like a drug addiction…
She was held under its sway…

The excitement of deception…
And the ease of execution…

Left a taste without exception…
There was no substitution…

Tracks always covered up…
No clues for the detection…

Thrill seeking in the moment…
No care for self-reflection…

But judgement is upon her…
They’re speaking in fork tongues…

Her punishment is awaiting…
She hears those distant drums…

And she knows the crimes committed…
Year after guilt ridden year…

Will forge the chains that bind her…
So she walks toward the light in fear…

She knows that everybody cheats…
She knew that everybody lies…

But she didn’t expect this feeling…
And it’s too late to apologise…

~

©Eyewillnotcry1973

Inspired by the song “Guilty” By Paloma Faith

 

“And most of us are not sure, if we have too much”…

Today I welcome a new guest poet – Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia, who kindly nominated me for the “Lovely Blog” award – as you may know, I am humbled to receive such awards, but not good at following the rules – so this is my version! You can see more of her work here : http://amoafowaa.wordpress.com/

Cheers
J

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GUILTY

Right hand in the left
Eyes bereft
Hoping to meet the sympathizer
Whose hands have been smeared with the sanitizer
Yet will take the dirt and put in the pesewa
Pity and awakening
I am truly guilty

In a big bungalow,
Complaining that money is in the low
I eat to my fill
And I’m able to the incinerator fill
While hunger seeps through the pores of the lot
Under the stormy or cooky shade
Pity and awakening
I am truly guilty

Two squared meals consumed
Beauty products, a must, presumed
Donning fanciful apparel
Polishing, enchanting and making surreal
My existence
While others moan in pain
Which crumps can ease
Pity and awakening
For I am truly guilty

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia, 2013.