A tri fold, then a bi fold, then a bi fold again
The smooth ridged friction causes my fingers to stumble,
Over the inscribed words of duty, honor, and justice
Though my marks cover the blank space
The core message stands resolute

Through the bite marks when I’ve no hands
Through the creases of each fold
Through the crossed out notes of yesterdays and before

The ideals stand unwavering on the rock of unassailable surety

“that’s not right” “its not what we do” my ingrained and flawless surety
Of right and wrong often splashed on my friends
Regardless of then asking to be soaked
But
They knew that this was coming
They knew ever since they became friends with me

I stood as bright and shinning as any statue to some ethical boundary
Completely unashamed of my brilliant and righteous judgment

Though still toeing the edge of my seat, I am quiet.
I’ve learned to let them do as they please,
Leave the bowing of others
To the truly untainted teachings
Of wisdom
To wisdom