Right And Wrong
Author's note: I wrote this poem in my spare time, after discussing the concept of a conscience. Feel free to comment; I like to hear what people think of my writing.
Sometimes, I wish Conscience wasn't so strong,
even though she helps me to tell the difference between right and wrong.
Every minor mistake that I accidentally make,
she makes me feel as if someone has thumped me in the stomach,
which forces it to ache.
Oh Conscience, why are you so tough?
Sometimes, I wish Conscience was weak,
as then she wouldn't make my soul wouldn't feel so meek.
Every day and every night there is always something I seek,
which makes my disposition oh so melancholy and bleak.
Oh Conscience, why are you so potent?
I know without you, I'd be blind,
to see the times in which I'm not kind.
But sometimes, I wish I could find,
a cloak of invisibility, in which to melt you to the grind.
Oh Conscience, why are you so full of might?
Why will you not allow me to see the light,
into the things in which I have done wrong?
Perhaps in the future,
my mistakes will make me strong.
Maybe there is some spark in you,
that I could locate, and see you through,
so that every bright day, and every dim night,
perhaps you'd make me happy, too.
As that is all I aim to do for you.