The truth is
I'm ashamed.
But not of the things
That make people scoff
When I'm not around
Or they forget
That I'm one of them.
I'm ashamed
Of the things
Which people would
Hear and think
“That's so sad.”
Those pitiable offenses
Over which I held—
And still hold—
No control.
I'm ashamed
Of those thoughts we all have;
Those of us that can't break the pattern
Of dark thoughts.
I'm ashamed
The way that most people
Are proud.
I'm ashamed
Like it was always
The thing I aspired to be.
I'm ashamed
Like a man
With no sense.