Forgiving

I couldn't heal his broken heart.
I couldn't staunch his cries.
So I resorted to a dirty trick
When he threatened suicide.

We don't talk.  I'm not surprised.

There wasn't much that I could do.
I dared her to quit.
The hurt was from my helping,
Things I'd make her admit.

There's no excuse for it.

But worse than all the things I did,
Aren't nearly as appalling
As the months that I did nothing,
While you were falling.

My shame comes calling.

When I think of what I should have done,
I go back to my bookshelf.
Much is written of forgiveness,
But never of one's self.

I know I'm right.  It helps.