Confessions

“Snide remarks do not become thee” --
('whispered' in my ear);
I know ‘the wound is more than kiss'
But this I could not bear.

“It feels so good to let it out,
to show how right I am!”
“And full of self,” came the reply,
“Your rightness is a sham.”

“When putting down the other one
to make the point you make;
You undercut pretended gain
and all for ego's sake.”

“What can I do?” I asked askance,
my lingua franca lost;
“Maybe silence – there's a start,
attending to the log

“within your eye that's overlooked,
so easily ignored;
The easy snark and cutting down
grows out of grievance stored.

“The 'healing' you so crassly give
With 'truth' 'neath ugly shroud,
Will ne'er be real until you know
your own heart is afoul,

“and let the Wounded Healer in
to heal your broken soul;
He needs no snide, but walks beside,
and makes the wounded whole.”