Thursday, August 6, 2009


I'm comparing sins, which effects my trust.
It effects my judgment,
indeed, it effects much too much.
I'm comparing sins, "This one I cannot control,
therefore none of them
are in my hands to throw."
I'm comparing sins, expectations arise,
"I should be better than this.
If I'd just try..."
I'm weighing my sins, me as my own judge
I put myself under hate, unloved.
And if by chance you understand
Woe to you!
Woe I say!
And woe again!
My fellow prison mate this cell is cold
Let us fast these expectations
that we so strongly take hold!
We're comparing sins, you and I
Will we amount to
this treacherous lie?
We're comparing sins, you and me
"Mine is worse"
"No mine is, can't you see?"
We're comparing sins, swapping hate
Immersed in self-pity,
erratic debate!
So I will live you with this
as I expect you not:
Graceful is the dance
of the liar's tongue.
Like fire it dances
and like fire it burns,
therefore my dear reader
is the standard I spurn.

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