Judge we may and judge we might
            As per free-will it is our right,
            To condemn by words we scribe and say
            Is to self elevate as we go astray,
            But within each soul a story’s told
            And who are we to be so bold
            As to believe that one must defend
            Our “Right” from birth when egos offend,
            The bird that squawks from a branch above
            Spits seeds that spill beyond whereof
            Wind does carry, by feather it flies
            Each tipped with vengeance, pride and lies
            As torment exhibits the scenes it curates
            As each seed terrains then germinates
            An artist brush can paint a view
            The eye that sees believes it true
            Often not is to defend
            So others may comprehend
            Then to heal the hurt one does make attempt
            At claim to God’s scepter of His judgment

            Silvia Pecota
            June 7, 2012