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Just forgive already; we're all waiting.
You wait to hate, and pounce upon mistakes
with pride, indignant, eager to decry;
cradl'ng grudges 'til your spite-bank breaks
unleashing wails, offended, ‘til its dry.
You hold forgiveness ready to deploy
(as if not so implied by its existence)
thinking that all await this selfish ploy
to justify the stain of your resistance.
Forgive or don't forgive, none cares but you
who blinded to the strategies of fate
think that the very angels make ado
of trifles which no child would think to prate.
This sport of justice should be long expelled,
so spare me from what vanity compelled.