You are wrong, I cry out loud,
My argument most profound.

I am wronged is the song I sing,
Deep in me I do know a thing.
I treated your care with callousness,
For I knew I was housed in your weakness.
I made fun of you, though you had my back,
Your lone fault I have kept track,
My misdemeanours I keep hidden in a sack.
I hold it tight, letting in no light.
I tug it hard with a self – centred heart in tow,
Those who flanked me, have taken a bow
and walk with steps sad and slow,
As I watch from behind the glistening screen,
I see my dagger in every wounded bond,
I tremble because I lose them
With whom I share memories fond.
I stravaig looking listlessly at every battered fellow ego,
My vanity though, I cannot forego.