Lawrence S. Pertillar
Riddled With Guilt
Tell me something...
Was it before or after you were conceived,
Are you accusing me of plagiarizing...
Your precious inner thoughts?
That you now wish to bring this to my attention.
Or was it after you discovered my own already existed,
Long before you could express words from your lips.
Did you assume I fathered your ambitions?
And you want me to feel riddled with guilt?
I will admit,
I do have desires to satisfy a wandering idealism.
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Comments about this poem (Riddled With Guilt by Lawrence S. Pertillar )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
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