The stinging shards of glass return,
Like midnight oil that begs to burn.
The mocking bird begins it’s song,
To prove to you how I'm so wrong.
The moonbeams shine on wings of fate,
And the world goes on with bitter hate,
You claim to care yet venom flows
From tongues of snakes, and hatred grows
Judge thee not is what it reads,
Yet covered up are dirty deeds.
For blind deceit and prideful ways,
You’ll push too far these troubled strays.
No one will come and, you’ll blame me,
You say, “I”, am hypocrisy.
They stay away, they run, they hide,
Who wants to take judgmental pride?
It’s very sad for the cost is great,
For those you push from Heaven’s gate.
Love all others is the golden rule
Yet you pick and choose so who’s the fool?