Rotten thoughts and withered memories
Distorts blurred reality’s whole,
Relived not once, but again over
To become imprinted on the soul.
Blurred innocence looks guilty
And guilt must be blamed
The fault, the pain and punishment
Its owner’s is to claim.
Shocking is the present: which lives another day;
Silent is the past: ghosts don’t come out to play.
While wrinkles on weary faces, to everyone must say,
Conscience is a burden and heavy price to pay.
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