Poetry

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“The poor soul,” I remark, sadly shaking my head
“If I were like him, I would wish myself dead”
I observe his life, the bad choices he’s made
How his selfish demands caused his conscience to fade
It’s much too late now I can see no more hope
As I look at his life through my keen microscope

Fittingly, I’ve forgotten my own wicked ways
The pain I brought others, regrettable days
It lifts my remorse to seek out your flaws
Holding you to the light I examine the cause
Judging you, as the Pharisee judged in the temple
To keep track of your sin is surprisingly simple

But take heed this warning-at all cost refrain
From bringing up my past, if remnants remain
There is vast difference between you and I
Comparability absent, don’t even try
In fact, keep your distance; don’t come near at all
I’ll be in the church yard, don’t bother to call

For goodness sake, don’t hold me up to that light!
I’ve examined myself, finding I am just right
Besides, if the light gets too close to my skin
You’ll surely see ugliness lurking within
My veil will then vanish like smoke on a breeze
Only God knows I praise Him from self- righteous knees

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