Monday, March 13, 2006

Guilty Soul

I'm pretty sure that everyone was there
When you decided to unbolt the doors
To your subconscious, open up your pores
And sweat until your guilty soul was bare.
Your husband winked at me, and clawed his hair,
Your sister sniffed, my wife muttered, "What bores,"
Your only daughter went about her chores,
And both your sons pretended not to care.

My own reaction wasn't so intense,
Since I had hoped those thoughts would pass unsaid.
It's not that I'm proud of the life I've led,
Or of my own infallible good sense –
I have some words to say in your defence,
But silence is my way; I'm so well bred.


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