"It was you, not me."
The Blame Game
Along the shores where turquoise waters gleam,
Across the islands of a sunlit dream,
From West End’s quiet to the Nassau sound,
A subtle, shadow-habit has been found.
When plans unravel or when systems fail,
When hard luck strikes or tempest winds prevail,
We turn our eyes away from what we’ve done
And cast the guilt beneath the golden sun.
We play the game—the endless, foolish game—
Where every shoulder seeks to dodge the blame.
"The council lagged," "The weather was unkind,"
"The traffic held me," "System went behind."
"It was my upbringing," "The boss was strict,"
"The circumstances were what I picked."
A thousand reasons offered to explain
Why we refuse to bear our share of pain.
In market stalls and quiet neighborhood streets,
Where harbor breezes temper summer heats,
We point our fingers across the ocean floor,
And lay our shortcomings at another's door.
If youth are drifting or if standards drop,
We wait for someone else to make it stop.
We blame the government, the law, the tide,
And keep our own transgressions tucked inside.
Yet every time we whisper, "It's not me,"
We forfeit strength and cede our liberty.
For when you say your errors aren't your own,
You yield the power to put things right alone.
A nation built on shifting sands of excuse
Will find its sturdy pillars coming loose;
No island prospers and no spirit grows
Where nobody accepts the path they chose.
What if we stopped the circle of defense,
And traded self-deceit for common sense?
What if we looked into the glass and said:
"The error was my own; I was misled,
I made the call, I dropped the heavy weight,
And I alone am master of my fate"?
How swift the shift, how bright the sudden dawn,
When finger-pointing days are finally gone!
To own a mistake is not a mark of shame,
It is the spark that lights a noble flame.
It takes a courage steadfast, deep, and true,
To look at failure and begin anew,
To say: "I fell, but here is where I stand,
To mend the work with honest heart and hand."
In small decisions lies a power vast—
To fix the future, not excuse the past.
Imagine then Bahamas transformed and whole,
Where accountability restores the soul!
Where leaders lead with transparent, clear intent,
And citizens are proud of effort spent.
Where parents teach their children from the start:
Responsibility defines the heart.
Where business, school, and civic life align,
And personal honor becomes our bold design.
When each takes ownership of word and deed,
The seeds of trust will blossom in our need.
Communities will strengthen, hand in hand,
And justice, truth, and harmony will stand.
No longer burdened by the games we play,
We’ll build a brighter, more enduring day.
For when we own our flaws and stand erect,
We earn the quiet glory of self-respect.
©A. Derek Catalano/Gemini
Related poem: Blame Only Yourself
Related poem: Take Responsibility for Your Actions
