11 Dec 2016 – Sonnet
Your hot bile rises – now you’re filled with pure disdain
for fools you have no feelings for besides contempt;
and in such moments, have you felt a pang of pain?
A fool yourself, you know full well you’re not exempt
if you stand judged as harshly as you judge. But then,
what happens? Do you cease your cannonade of wrath,
or do you simply swing the guns around, begin
bombarding savagely what lies along that path,
and storm the weakened walls that hide your fearing soul?
You’ve heard that you should love your neighbor as yourself.
If ever hard-shelled riddles harbored unclaimed gold,
that heretofore unopened box holds endless wealth?
And so the war goes on that never will be won.
Once trained you simply can’t relax and drop that gun.