Early Works - Conscience

I hear the angry crowd
as in my chair I shroud
I can hear their accusations
about my supposed bad intentions.
They all know this hurt
I feel in my heart.

No one is perfect
I know I am not
I don’t try to hide my sin
for I feel the guilt within.
Some show smiles outside
and let tears fall within
for no one is perfect
we all have a conscience.

I hear their angry words
that drive inward like swords,
I hear their hate
in statements they give,
but I always say
live and live
for they know the hurt
I feel in my heart.
No one is perfect
we all have a conscience.

Date unknown

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!