Guilt

a personal poem about past experiences

Our memory does not lie
it may slip but break its fall
the mind speaks not in time
and our voices form words, not mine.

the voice ill-used, in retrospect:
of the thousand lights that shine
there is no audience to see,
the different coloured time.

a past not unknown
a vision not unseen
a broken nail endeared
-as another thought untwines.