Conscience Poem by Louis Santhana

CONSCIENCE


The invisible monster sitting on my forehead
as an inseparable S P Y shadowing wherever I tread
threshes and tears me down threadbare
for the acts and thoughts, if not are clean and fair

It holds me tightly onto its mighty chain
like a master strolling with his brute-Alsation
every soul has a luring but sinful plain
where we love to be lost in fun and chagrin

The third umpire, perched on the far- off tower
amidst an array of controls, with over-ruling powers
dotting us inch by inch on his watchful screens
switching on right signals, when we look him up in vain

It is not a policeman, but policing is its duty too
Not a friend of mine, but has the right to correct me through
Not a court of law, but holds me guilty for my faults
has no punishing arms, but grills me down to a grinding halt.

Louis Santhana