One day,
Mr Guilt came over.
And decided to stay.
I asked him,
First polite,
“Whatcha doin’,
What’s the craic?”
“Whatcha think!?”
Rudely, he spat back.
I ask him:
“What is it??
Was it, this?
Or this??”
“Oh boy you better bet!”
He almost said with a shout,
“And this??” I quivered out,
“Now that’s something,”
he leers in,
“Something, you won’t forget…
No doubt!
Not ever!
It will grow like mold, wet,
on all that you remember!”
As at my guts and morale,
His infected words ate.
He said this,
While he was sneering:
“Soon the whole crowd,
Will be roaring and cheering,
At this picture,
Right here if you’d look:
The time you took,
When you were with “her”,
You know? Don’t you know?
I could fill a whole book.
Named “Disastrous Memoirs”!
Damn him good,
And damn him well,
Be he man or apparition,
None deserve,
To be threatened by this hell!
Mr Guilt half-stands, half-proudly now,
Yet all so skinny and frail, and blue,
Slouched in the corner of the room.
I bet if I challenged to kick him out,
I could knock, chuck and lock him out too!
But hey!
Who’s he now on the phone to?
“Who are you calling!?” I say, feeling sick,
He replies via trademark smirk,
Shirking the question, flashing a quick look.
“Better have your defenses on,
As coming here tonight,
I invited the whole squadron.
And I shall livestream the whole fight!
He hangs up, looks pleased as punch,
Enticing me to deliver,
One on his face,
Or his gut.
But,
In the darkness, I walk over.
Calmly, surely, conceitedly,
And slowly,
Walked over to him,
And embraced him, strong,
As though he was,
Never cared for,
Never loved, never born.
“Bet you didn’t see that one come”
You can fight my mortal flesh,
But we all know,
You’re terrified of love.
Now’s the time now you fear me.”
He didn’t speak, he began to disappear,
And so, I didn’t yell, (with having less to fear)
Birthed or chosen.
It’s a trait of him,
And ones like him,
To love to be feared,
And fear to be loved.
That I’m loved and cared about by men,
And friends, (maybe whose life too shortly ends).
Some on earth some now above,
And as angels sing and whisper
A little more hate, and envy disappears.
His phone dropped at his foot, instead of ear,
And his beat-up phone, also was less clear.
Giving a final “beep-beep.”
I pick it up,
And as it started to fade,
Some angry text said,
Something harsh.
And in the shade,
I could just make it out:
“WE’LL GET YOU WHEN
YOUR LOVE FADES AWAY,
BE SURE OF IT, WRONG-DOER!
GOOD-DAY!”
But I’d just conquered a squad,
Of imaginary men,
With my heart.
My nuclear warmth had torn them apart!
So I simply had the best,
Most relaxing heated bath.
And smiled my way to bed,
Knowing a confidence and love
That defeats and conquers wrath.
The Humble Rock Dove 