It’s a funny sort of business,
feeling sorry
for oneself.

Or for that matter at all
feeling bad
for another.

It comes to this, you bad-feelers:
If you feel
somewhat bad

For the inconvenience caused
a dear friend
By yourself,

It is a subconscious matter
Which designs
To arrest

Your own unbearable angst
At feeling
Put out.

For if wrong is done and evident
You never say,
“My friend,

You’ve been awfully abused,
And for that
I am sorry.”

No, no indeed, do you say this,
But rather,
And simply:

“Oh, friend, dear friend, my friend
I simply feel
Quite bad.”

As if to say, in the grounding of feeling
It’s better
You feel

Happy, and right, and morally sound
Than to do
Just the same.

So, I feel the business of feeling bad
Should be shot
Out the window.

No more of the softening heart
With a bevy
Of dry tears.

No, no, you’re at fault, liven up!
Take blame,
Take account

For the very thing you undid.
And then
Set to right

The valuable friendship which seeks
As its end
And beginning

No more than the truth in all
Things.