I could say that I'm sorry but you know that im not-
And if i lied you'd still know that im sold and im bought,
For the merest trifles of junk food love and feeling-
Like each Kiss or Caress holds some power of healing.

You're in the next room with this vision of me.
A vision more warped, none could there be:
You see me as wicked and slightly obscene,
But I hold to my word that im not that girl you've seen-

In a moment of stupidity and maybe some lust,
But you cant tell me that im the one who's unjust.
I did want to hold you and maybe that's wrong,
At least it's got meaning though, and had all along.

You dont see this though, in your black and white sight
You only see things if they're wrong or they're right-
How could you know of conflictual meanings
Of different loves and all different leanings?

I'll stop now because this ranting won't help me,
You wont hear it anyway, you're deafened completely
By your stupid conceptions of what happened that night
These things seem so hurtful when seen in daylight.

Amy Carmichael

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/that-night-19/