Portrait of Guilt
The colour drains from his face as he realises he has been found out.
Guilt
The truth,
The wonderful truth,
Reacting like a flame before ,
A waxwork smile,
There’s no denial,
There’s no denial !
Drip, drip,
An array of colour draining,
From a featureless face,
And staining each feeble excuse,
It’s no use,
It’s no use,
It is GUILT.
