Judge Not

I suppose, there still are those,
Who never, ever, stub their toes,
Or some uncalled for "faux pas" make;
So for their sake,
Dear Lord, I take
This moment to elicit prayer:
That man so rare
Might, in all humility,
Judge not frail humanity
That often stumbles, falters, falls.
Forgive instead;
For mortal angels seldom tread
Where mortals dwell;
When was the last time
That you fell?

by Jack Bowen

Other poems of JACK BOWEN (2)

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