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Poem: A Secret

September 5, 2012
tags: ,

An oath I once took
to keep a secret safe.
To my detriment, I vowed
and that I will not break.

I have let the world think ill of me
so it does not think ill of another.
Nothing is so ill
as the fit of villainous black, however,
when I prefer grey.

Though there is honour in this dishonour,
when judgement is politely given
and I can only plead my guilt,
I cannot help but feel the shame.

“You’re not exactly easy,” they say.
And I consent and say it too,
for that much we all know is true.

But today I saw the victim of this secret kept,
and wondered did she know and if so, had she wept?

But to each man the right to do right,
to redeem himself, if he may,
if only once,
and from no man will I take that much away.

Still, it makes a heart heavy
and it makes a body low,
to hold another’s shame
in addition to one’s own.

I have quite paid my debt
and paid it ten-fold.

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