My faults - an internal monologue poem on a thursday morning.

Everything I heard, 
I internalized.
Every story I saw,
I internalized.
Every sorrow I read,
I internalized.
Every death I knew,
I internalized.

Every pain that grew,
I internalized.
Every lie that I spew,
I internalized.
Every tie that I called,
I internalized.
Every day that I stalled,
I internalized.

Everything that I hid,
I internalized.
Too soon—or too late—now?
My faults, I’ve realized.

(Painting : "The Absinthe Drinker" by Pablo Picasso (Blue Period))