There is discomfort

There is discomfort

An embarrassing silence

Especially at night

Walking the street

Passing a policeman on his beat

Feeling guilty for nothing

Forced to look him in the eye

Mumbling an ‘evening’

As he walks by

The guilt is buried deep within

How did it get there

Where did it begin?

I don’t believe in original sin

The concept is not one to wrestle with

Even in the quiet of solitude

Wondering about St Jude

The lost cause of humanity

The hopelessness of justice

The senseless waste of time.

Even the ungodly believe in something

In the dead of night

Wishfully dreaming

Of a guilt-free life

Chasing a yellow balloon

Around the moon

In a Taxi

With earthbound shadows

In full flight

Remembering the first time

They were punished for doing something naughty

Told they were dirty

For asking difficult questions

About puberty.

Even arousal is a cause for concern

How many books are left to burn

The policeman never stops

Just nods and carries on

No-stop and search

Not this time

But maybe one day.

Is it unreasonable to feel this way

When guilt is self-destructive

Self-referential and reductive

It has the power to disrupt

Even to corrupt the progress to completion.

If it is given free rein

It will fill your dreams with doubt and pain

If you let it.

So stop it

Don’t let it win

Consign the useless emotion

To the bin

Where it belongs

And then you can begin

Your life again

Guilt-free.