Pharisees Fall

Your labels are for you only because you dare not remove your filter glasses.

You must place people where they go in your waffle mind or leave them all behind,

Each one has a box and in it they go, one by one, or you come undone.

As you sit sipping your religious tea, watching people as they stroll by the window of your life

You sum them up, good enough, or not, based on your criteria, you check off that list

With a crimson pen stained with the sin of judgment and hubris.

Compassion packed its bags long ago and headed East. Love is a word on a cutesy card

But as a sentiment you have no use for it. As long as your little protected world is safe

You care not for real love or real truth or enlightenment, only that the status quo is held.

Your position in the world is secure, so you believe, so behind closed doors your heart grows hard.

Different is as different does, you laugh as you dismiss them utterly from your mind

When deep inside your shriveled heart, you’d know if you looked for the tiniest shard


Of care or concern, it isn’t there and you can no longer manufacture it. Your heart has quit,

Though it keeps its beat in rhythm with your fetid breaths. Your mask secure and held in place

Sits ever so securely on your face

And only heaven sees your truest form, dried and twisted as a prune

And all weep for you, for as you rejoice in your own righteousness,

The truth someday will out, and the mask will fall, and all will know all, and you will fall.