Mea Culpa

I will never have the meshes of my skin tight enough
 To withstand the relentless attacks of the infinite error
I envy the wicked, I envy the fierce, I envy the moodless egos 
I know it's there, the vagaries
  Making my means turn pale
At the simple bend of a crooked foot
I will slip towards the latest ruts in stammering
That certainly I am wrong and seeking how
  Under the mass of the ones who know, flattened
Self-declared guilty of all the world's sins
Hanging on the collarbones of my bottomless fault

I will have continually to repent
Far too spineless under the doubt

Wrapped up until the last hour
In the fibers so poorly strung, so rough, oh!

So rough
Of my own right's rags

September 2015