I cannot help but notice as you walk upon this land,
That your shoes get soiled and dusty just like the rest of man.
Which only goes to show me that you too, are common soul;
And have not been divinely called or given special roll.
So quickly do you judge, not even thinking clearly
Condemning others, speaking out on things they may hold dearly.
Who made you judge, and jury, and executioner, too?
What makes you think you have the right to voice it, false or true?
The poison you so easily spread, not caring of it’s intention.
Will ruin, surely stain, the lives of those of whom you mention.
Oh hypocrite, with smile so sweet, of faces you have many.
So easily do you lull us all, believing you are saintly.
What will you say to those you’ve harmed when you face them on the morrow?
Will you feel just a twinge of shame or even suffer sorrow?
The day will come when you must stand in judgement to your Savior
I wonder what excuse you’ll use to condone your behavior?
May B. Winkel - © 1995