I AM, PLURAL
Our very breath offends.
Our eyes falsely perceive events.
We hear what we want to know.
We withhold needed embraces.
We walk with heads bowed,
Trespassing with each step.
Little do we realize destructive patterns.
Sadly, self evades knowing.
Wants push into the world,
Taking all we think we need.
We leave the rest of humanity destitute.
When will we erase the harm,
Restore the world, pass on our plenty,
Redeem ourselves with self-forgiveness?
(Is this a universal negative assessment, or am I too judgmental of myself?)