'' To Forgive Isn't Divine '' Poem by Bri Mar

Is this gift called living?
All it's portrayed,
Must you be so forgiving,
Or can you be swayed.

Why forgive what you hate,
To make others feel good?
When you'd rather castrate,
Then totally exclude.

If someone hurts you,
Ask yourself, why?
If they cause you ado,
Why shouldn't you defy.

Only after they're caught,
Do they mimic contrition,
While those left distraught,
Face an inquisition.

While you the victim,
Are left feeling scarred,
The do gooders dictum,
Is their ace card.

I had a hard life,
As an excuse it is lame,
We've all came through strife,
But that we don't blame.

We've all been through Hell,
Most don't turn to crime,
The reason we've done well?
Our mountains we'd climb.

To continually blame others,
Is a form of abuse,
The truth's what it smothers,
It's a feeble excuse.

To that human who errs,
Some say all will be fine,
I'd say, who cares?

‘' To Forgive Isn't Divine ‘'