Who made you any kind of authority?
The judge of all.
You will be the first to fall.
Your pride blinds you to that.
Your ways are right in your own eyes.
But I think you're misleading.
You are so transparent, you and your vain glory.
Your anger shows through.
From your bottomless pit of hate.
I pity you.
For I was you.
I choked on my own words.
I swallowed my own poison.
I was so sick.
Then I realized it was me I was directing 
  everything at.
I was my biggest problem.
My own worst enemy.
It was me I was angry with.
It was me that I hated.
Now I can see that love should be the motive 
  for everything.
Now I see through clear eyes.
I still am not perfect.
I'm not always right.
But I call them as I see them.
And I can see right through you.
Be careful, there is a coming fall.


1 comment:

I'd love to know what you think of this poem.