London Poem: Day 292

5 June

At times, we find words sharp,
Shifting jaggedly to find their way
Into the softest portion of a man’s heart.
Who we are we to judge another through
Uncontrollables such as who they are,
And where they are from?
But, it is in nature to judge, and
Categorize, listing oneself above
The mass, standing closer to God.
The sting carries on, but
Life is an endless roll with the
Hurtful things that are inescapable.


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