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guilt
Guilt lays, heavy as lead,
in the pit of my stomach.
I'd be better off dead.
Sweat, like dew, quickly appears.
My eyes begin to fill
with tears caused by fear.
Like trees shook by winds,
so my hands trembled
and the light round me dimmed.
With common sense blurred
as eyesight sometimes is,
my morals were deterred.
