The False Judge














I am not perfect
I am not even close
I am broken
Broken
Of my faults
The choirs sing
Too many times
Too many ways
I tell myself
I'll do the right thing
And fail
All the while knowing
What I should have done
To do it the right way
I hold grudges
I hold hurt
Deep within
Before I've begun
Damning me
To fail
No matter how patiently
I wait before I act
No I do not rush in
I walk slowly
Telling myself
What to do
And then
With grace
With Mercy
Both behind me
I do
That which
Disgraces the mercy
And that
Which makes a lie
Of the grace
I try to embrace
Who am I
To hold in judgment
The people
Living just as I am
Without any sort of map
An absurd world
We carve our meaning from
Every day
God forgive me
For being me
Bang the drum
Of war for the war
Within my heart
And perhaps
Someday
I will survive
And win
But until that day
I linger in my failure
With echoes of my regret
That I can't forget

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