When I'm uneasy at night I know...

I've wronged another...

It's not merely for love for the other…

One need not love to lament a fault…

It's only obvious to be haunted…

To hurt another is a great sin…

One that could never help another…

No altruism could justify it…

To let it sit within…

Guarantees misery and tragedy…

It sits like a thorn…

Burried deeper unless it's pulled out…

Pain acts as a constant reminder…

Only haste can prevent its permanence…

Before pulling out the thorn…

Realize why I hurt another…

It's not spite for the other…

But spite for the self…

Cowardice to not look at a mirror…

But to reflect it to another….

When I'm uneasy at night I know…

There's a thorn I must pull out…

With pincers that apologize…

A bandaid to atone…

When I'm uneasy at night I know…

That, I am sorry…

And it's not complete…

Until I make it known.