Oh, how it hurt
That refusal
That rebuff
Cut and wounded
I withdrew
Licked my wounds
Plastered my sores
Bandaged my cuts
My bruises cold-iced
My shame . . .
Yes, in truth,
Perhaps it was
More shame
Than a broken heart
Pride undermined
Ego squashed
That doesn’t help
Because
There is more shame
In it being shame.
I see that now …
And am ashamed.
William Blake ‘Mired in Sin and Shame: Original Sin’ … c.1800
Roland's Ragbag 
True words Roland. Shame carries a different kind of pain and sometimes it doesn’t go away. A good reflective piece to start the week. Hope you enjoyed the break.
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Thank you, Davy, yes, had a splendid week in Devon being looked after by my daughters.
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Excellent Roland and I hope the break provided some inspiration for more of your poetry.
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