Shame's Day

Shame awoke to start the day

She struggled to rise, but found a way

She took the train to work at nine`

On the “Don’t look at me, I’m ugly” Line

Shame said hello, but avoided chatter

Assured that nothing she said would matter

Her eyes cast down to the tasks at hand

Self-disdain, a burning brand

Shame attended the party tonight

In a cloak of pride, she looked just right.

Bathed in gin and spritzed in sorrow

She put regret on hold for tomorrow

Shame took herself to her lonely bed

Amid echoes of what she should have said

She dreamed she died in the darkest woods

An epitaph of “damaged goods”