30 January 2014


By Bud Koenemund

For "Her."

I have no choice now but to admit guilt;
The blame, by any measure, 'longs to me
Alone. I will trudge to the gallows built
Atop my shame and deliver that plea;
No remorse tempers this allocution;
Though, one excuse I'll give to mitigate
The crime: My heart was misled by passion –
Fooled into thinking you'd reciprocate.
Much like Will's green-eyed Moor, I have "loved not
Wisely but too well." And, that devotion
Blinded me to truth; leaving a mind fraught
With madness for seeking thy affection.
   On the charge of love I stand convicted;
   My penance, I fear, is self-inflicted.

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