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Writer's pictureMartin Wardley

Fault

She’s been listening to this bile throughout her life

These nasty, vitriolic bitter lies

Blackmail of the soul and more besides

A full-frontal phycological assault


Only now she’s learning

This was not her fault


How obnoxious and how poisonous the seed

Planted, cultivated, grown and teased

Meticulously nurtured and with ease

Laced with acrimony, grudge and salt


And now she questions

This was not her fault?


From all this selfish hatred comes a love

A perseverance for a greater good

The will to extricate from barb and hook

Rid of all these feelings of revolt


For now, she knows

That this was not her fault

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