I've been offering handwritten poems on a website and this is what I wrote. I let somehow else pick the subject I would write about. They picked guilt. My poems are usually whimsical, so this was different from my usual tone..... 120 Years of Guilt My eyes are pressed firmly So I can see Things others don't This is what I've become A messiah, a monk Somehow transcending All you know is all you see All you become is all you can be When you cease to exist, you become numb When you exist, you become one Guilt will do strange things To your insides To your eyes I hold the truth in my veins What you hold is clear to me You harbour guilt Strength isn't built from guilt -M.R.
I hope this is really your poem and not some scapegoat for another person hoping they understand any different than what is known. I really hope.
