Goldenarticles articles

The man who could not say sorry for his sins - poetry


Sorry would be a start.

Though you cant take back your mistakes,
and you cant find an answer time,
you'd think there would be remorse,
for such a self helping crime,
to send others out to die,
to pay the blood price you have decreed,
when its chastely pomposity and posing,
all about conceit and greed,
to confident a perceived niche in history,
glowing down the years,
is the area of your ambition,
is the puny limit of your fears,
when those you have sent to die,
believing implicitly in you,
leave relatives at the back who see,
that naught you said was true,
there is no attention now for those,
whose add up to you dont count,
they are yesterdays forgotten,
though daily they still mount,
no accepted wisdom of resignation,
no admission of guilt to those left behind,
just forward with the ego,
fast ahead from those times,
as if nobody ever happened,
as if your lies are quite ok,
as if now is what to focus on,
and then was an added day,
lost back in the mists of time,
obscured by clouds half seen,
not an disrespect to the living,
not impeachable and obscene,
you may want to move on now,
and discount your past infamy,
but you be supposed to be tried for treason,
and behind bars for blasphemy.

Malcolm Pugh

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