Riddled through with eyes
Dogs my furtive footsteps
Creeps my sweating skin
Turns me round and around

Though, unseen, I think, by any,
Or, maybe seen, perhaps,
Yet does my anxious mind 
See shadows in the dark

Concealment is my friend
My prison too, at that 
Hidden from prying eyes
But nervous of surprise 

Too fearful to confront
Lest give away the deed
If blackmail be their wont
They’ll cut me piece by piece

I know not where to go
I cannot flee the past
Recall my foolish acts
My foolish acts of rash

Suspect my fellow man
Despise those nearest me
Hide my deepest secret
Whose bell doth toll for me

Oh, ease this shameful load
Anoint my mortal head
Cause me spill my heartache
And face twelve honest men

To close my eyes in sleep
Trade kind again for kind
To walk into the sun
And need not glance behind

Deny, my mind will break
Hide, my back will bend
Confess, my soul is free
And, free, our eyes may meet

11 thoughts on “Guilty

  1. Concealment is my friend, prison, too….Wow. Deny, my mind will break. Hide my back will bend. Confess…ah, there, my friend, is what makes that concealment a prison. If people I know in my day to day world read this blog…the judgement and anger and lashing out would push me into another sort of prison.
    This is a stunning work, Will.

    Liked by 1 person

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