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A reflection on past wrongs...

The Penitent

Fdf5205c-8b5b-4da8-a6dc-63fe28d680a9by Billy J. Stewart10 Apr 2016

I have no fine words to say,
And nothing to show,
For my sins.
Ach it’s a long road, littered with the debris of consequence,
And half-hearted excuses,
That matter little at all.
None, in fact.
And yet, there they are, all scrunched up, spilling from the wastebasket,
Strewn around the floor. What a bloody mess.
Oh dear God…
You know, if I could live again,
Aye, that’s it, like a replay,
I mean, if I could have another go
At this cluster-fuck I made of everything, this ham fist,
I’d…I’d…
Ah, who am I kidding…
I’d balls it all up again,
All over. With aplomb.
Like I learned nothing.
I am a rat, drowned in a vomitous sea of self-pity,
Over-whelmed and adorned by the finest trappings of shame,
Its guilt-edged braiding, and golden dangly tassels.
And here I stand,
The perpetual penitent.
Ever the apologist.
Like it’s my bloody job or something, my vocation,
My great calling to implode in spectacular fashion.
Then self-justify in a comic horror show.
It matters not a jot what I think,
Or how I justify the means I chose.
No.
It’s all the same, thank you very much.
Every word, every thought and deed,
From every angle, well,
I just can’t get away from it.
I just can’t. Nope. Can’t.
And when I turn my back on all I’ve ever done,
When I survey…
It mocks me, that great heap of steaming shite I made.
God, but I remember everything. Every horrific detail.
Every day the same routine.
Oh aye, but it’s too late.
It’s too far gone to make amends.
So then,
Here stands the Penitent,
Turning the leaf again,
Believing every time, falling all over for the old lie…
…This time things will be different.