Although I cry it wasn’t me alone
That did base thing – ’twas her, for being there,
That turned my phrase and cut me to the bone:
I am now shadow to the pain of care,
Diminished in my spirit by my sting.
Judge not! Your clearest truth has died,
Hurt not! You pecked, and broke a tumbling wing,
Shame not! You spat, and God won’t let you hide,
And all your hurting grief must spew up in a moan -
For now the recompense is paid in tears,
Now the prayer must soften her hard stone,
For I am isolated by my jeers,
And further, further, from my splendid home:
I cursed myself most, lost the right to roam.
4/3/2000
Hurting somebody (and trying to blame them for making your words come out so unpleasantly 
) and in the process hurting yourself and losing the right to dance and fly through life until you’ve mentally apologised to that person a thousand times.
1
Comment by sheila
tht was ok, i didnt understannd it
Posted on: November 5th, 2009 at 1:11 pm
2
Comment by admin
It’s not my best poem ever, but what the heck.
Posted on: November 6th, 2009 at 2:03 pm