Pardon Me

Who am I to judge thee
I who’s not that perfect
As if I – a decree
I who’s the same – a wreck
Sound judgment’s what I lack
I respond as a foe
It’s cold o’er our backs
We’re all restrained – we owe
It’s a shackle enough just to balance your tray
When the breathing gets rough
We all kneel down to pray -
To the One, when we’re tried,
Who carries when we cry.

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