#judgmentandtruth
An approach is a sentiment, not a calling of divine.
An opinion is valid only and only when one doesn't step out of line.
A figment of thought, a pristine smile—
Words are mere thoughts until one makes it worthwhile.
A question appears though? Let me put in some light.
Why do people make it a hot topic when it's not even their life?
Why make comments on what a person should do
If you're not a part of their day-to-day view?
Why act all Saint-like while you belittle them, causing strife?
You lack the basic mannerisms, yet have the audacity to lecture them on rights.
You play the role of a perfectionist, yet you've got so much to hide.
You judge everybody while your own personality has nothing that shines.
Yet, you have the gall to ridicule someone who spent their entire life
Confined to a few meters of land, day and night.
Complaining they don’t provide the family with basic things—
But look at how much they work every day, without help from anyone.
Why does that not come to light, huh?
Making a mockery of them, manipulating others with your lies—
When they did nothing wrong, yet they have to put on a brave face and take it all in,
So that the family stays, despite the brutal conditions they are in.
Not like you’ll ever understand the genuine good in plain sight.
Because of people like you, they can't even take a break, much less a vacation with loved ones.
You're always there to critique their work for a fun laugh—what a dreadful sight.
Yet the people only believe what you say.
Such is this era, such is this life.
You play victim, and the victim gets the dice.
Once again, they're thrown on the same pedestal of hate and loathe.
But now they've lost the sense of fright,
For this is yet another day in their life.
A tragic tale that is very much alive,
A tale to which this right-preaching society turns a blind eye—
A tale of Pride & Prejudice.
-Asher Graves
May 7, 2025
May 7, 2025 at 9:44 AM UTC
The more I observe my circle, the clearer colors show,
Truth unveiled in whispers, in shadows they throw.
They judge, they speak, casting words in the air,
Yet their inner selves mirror what they declare.
Sometimes I choose silence, not to push them away,
But their hollow words make comfort stray.
It's not that I dislike the chatter they bring,
But emptiness in speech can clip my wings.
So, I sit with my thoughts, a quiet retreat,
Listening to life, where truths discreet.
In their echoes, I find what’s real,
A sanctuary of calm where wounds can heal.
Jan 22, 2025
Jan 22, 2025 at 5:49 AM UTC