Descended

Whirling around inside my head
Are all the utterances I could have made.
Why is it that when I err once,
In a miniscule fashion,
It must be amplified
And screamed out loud,
For all with ears to hear?
Why do they listen
And judge me then,
From that--
My one mistake?
'Twas not volcanic,
Not earth-shaking,
But merely a false step.
A slip of the tongue--
Why such a terror is it?
The sin I committed was microscopic,
But a sin nonetheless.
I was wrong,
I am sorry,
And I want you to stop!
My self-control faded for an instant only,
Nothing serious,
But nothing I will do again.
I will fix it,
If the need doth arise,
But who are you to worsen the agony?
Pain is not yours to inflict
On me; you weren't even offended!
However, what you think and say of me
From my concern has descended.





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