The hardest part
is coming face to face,
truly, with no guile
or misdirection, or excuses,
especially excuses,
with this anger that wells
deep within my chest.
So few here have integrity,
so few anywhere
and it galls, rubbing till
the soul is blistered and oozing.
Right. Wrong.
These are questions for the mirror,
the eyes staring back.
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