Quiet Guilt

I never meant to scheme or take,
never reached for another’s place.
I stayed within my careful silence,
an introvert learning to exist gently.

Yet wanting more felt like a crime,
hope mistaken for cunning intent.
I stood still, said little, meant no harm
still somehow failed, still somehow bent.

Now guilt sits quietly beside me,
as if I was caught without a voice.
Not for what I did,
but for what I dared to wish.