Guilt

by John Herlihy

Actions done that went wrong,

Decisions made that were bad.

Guilt appears, a sad little song,

In this tight-fitting cloak clad.

What can we do with guilt

When it creeps into the mind?

Lodged there a rock amid silt,

Oh so large, the unmovable kind.

Two things come readily to mind,

To handle your sense of guilt.

Drown you in the lake of your mind,

Find purpose, clean up the milk spilt.

The drowning part is easy,

You just sink and float away.

The purpose part more difficult,

Does my weary voice have a say?

Is anyone ready to save me,

When there is no one around?

Can I find purpose to help me,

With no clear vision around?

What but guilt that us judges,

As if a river judged by the silt.

The guilt stays fixed, never budges,

Instead, we should judge the guilt.

Who is the judge this guilt to stir?

Do I myself arrange this bleak affair?

Such a harsh sentence to confer,

The soul in dark shadows laid bare.

Indeed, we hunger for so many things,

But enduring guilt is not one of them.

Of self-degradation guilt gladly sings,

If shame the flower, then guilt the stem.

For the silt of guilt I will dig deep,

To be finally rid of it forevermore.

The river of my way to take a leap,

Until this guilt be an issue no more.

Thank God for the words of forgiveness,

What will help us but forgiving words.

Words to comfort, to soothe, a kindness,

Ancient, archaic – as the language of birds.

Guilt no longer has hold over me,

Forgiveness has finally taken its place.

In the end, forgive myself if need be,

Shed that useless skin, the world to face.

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Copyright © John Herlihy

Saturday 28 February 2026