Poetry

Guilt is not your friend,
But is it…it depends

Guilt, the stink of sludge
And the color of mud

Guilt, the reminder of the past
Of harm and pain surpassed

Guilt, is the devil in disguise
Waiting for your soul to die

Guilt, is slime with all beauty aside
Covering your beaten hide

Guilt, keeps you in check
When you want to say what the heck…

Guilt, when you feel you should
But it is something understood

Guilt, partners with regret
Consequence’s with debt

Guilt, is like a death
It reminds you of the your dread

It hisses from the lips of those who are pure
It turns their gentle heart insecure

Guilt, it makes the stomach turn
When things are about to turn

Guilt is not your friend,
But is it…it depends