The Purity Tests We Make

Please forgive me

And my sensitivity

It’s just the existential John-Boy Walton

That seems to live within me

It’s a hard thing to pass

The purity tests we make

There is always one that escapes me

The one that I fail to take

The discipline that shapes me

Is applied with autonomous resolution

But I am never assured

Of any universal solution

And so I do my best

To act with a semblance of wisdom

That I continue to seek

With optimistic determinism

We must all evaluate

The road that is ahead

The rules that we navigate

Must align us with how we tread


I Know I have to Heal

I choose to be happy

But I have much work to do

I have a damaged soul

Just between me and you

Traumatized in my childhood

I eventually outgrew and overcame

But if you don’t resolve the issues

They tend to come back to visit again and again

Ironically I cannot turn to the family

Since their influence is part of my shame

I know I have to heal

And depose this pain that comes out of my blame


The Character of the Fool

I know I am not perfect

Yet I think I should strive to be

I know you are not either

Thus, the operative pronoun is we

If we belong to a community

Then we should participate in an excepted moral law

To not participate as such

Will be our dishonorable petulant flaw

Many people think nothing of this

They act with no discipline or skill

To besmirch another in confrontation

Comes naturally to their will

What I find most objectionable

Are those that point and do not do what they say

The character of the fool

Is what they portray