Although I cry, it wasn’t me alone
That did base things, ’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 made your 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.
4/3/00
Generally speaking if a poem needs explaining then it’s crap, so this poem is crap - but I like it. So I’m going to explain it.
Have you ever disliked someone intensely? And you’re in the same room, and you say something, but your dislike makes you say it in an extremely unpleasant way? And of course it’s their fault, because if they hadn’t been there you wouldn’t have said it in such a way, but even as you say it you feel sick and dirty inside? And then suddenly you care very deeply about what you said, because you feel so dirty inside, and it hurts, it’s painful, and you’re basically a shadow of yourself, of what you thought you were? That’s the first five lines.
And the rest of it basically says that you can no longer soar in your mind, but are tumbling down, that you can no longer see clearly, and must pray and say sorry to that person in your mind.
