Never free of guilt

You can’t ever escape guilt

When you’re always

At least half wrong

Guilt clings to you

Like a wet rag

And no matter how

You shake your feet

To get free of it

You never do.

Nor can you make up

For the disasters you cause

Such as the man

Whose cigar ignites

A brush fire

Turn forest fire

Even though he

Rescues his neighbor’s dog

Even provoked

You can’t claim innocence

Knowing that deep inside

You always had this

Particular button

The wrong people

Could always push,

And you always let

The wrong people push it,

Just to see what happens

Then crying foul

At the ill feelings

If what you feel

Are real feelings at all

Sometimes, it’s just a roar

You hear in your ears,

Or a hiss of escaping steam

The source of which

You can never find,

But you know the heat

Because it scalds your fingers

And rarely does the person

Who pushed the button

In the first place

Ever get burned.