Blame is like revolving
moving only to go nowhere,
There I found a low place
by shattering vessels I threw there.
There I learned nothing
my anger is like glass on the floor,
I removed my shoes of discernment
so now my pain is so much more.
I threw down what I fancied
that which I lent substance to for sight,
yet turning my eyes from the path
I found myself a painful plight.
Whatever curses I may throw
all still stays the same,
as I do I move nowhere
doing nothing except assigning blame.
It is what I found
when I moved and went nowhere,
a place I created of suffering
now I bleed as I move from there.
Categories: Anger, Poetry, What I'm Really Thinking
