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


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