Owen Suffolk

Here you will find the Poem Untitled 3 of poet Owen Suffolk

Untitled 3

Nothing seems changed; here's the oaken chair, 
That every night I knelt beside, 
As I whispered to God the simple prayer 
I learned from my mother when I was her pride. 
The old familiar things of then, 
Unchanged, are beautiful still to the now; 
But I am transformed in heart, and when 
Will guilt ever cease to shadow my brow?