instinctively,
my jaws tighten,
my fists clench,
my thoughts start racing.
as if to push a racing train to a halt,
I tell myself:
I am not the one to judge.
yet the screeching animosity does not stop,
rather slowly pressurize for an explosion.
if humans are not perfect,
why strive for such perfection?
I’d like to know I did the right thing
and live and love without regret.
9.2.2023
Ralph with Coffee 