(as far as I knew)
until this fell out of my fingers. Hope you like it.
The Pointed Finger
by Lyn Marinello
Behind the pointed finger are three more pointed back
and every hateful barb is but a disesteemed attack.
Every single insult; each undignified response
beholds an injured inner core and the scars from which it haunts.
The sneering and the taunting come from insecurities
an infantile action based in self-obscurities.
The need to draw attention when the moment's surely passed
and placing blame haphazardly is a role that's certainly miscast.
Behind the pointed finger there's so much venom in your stance;
such resentment in your actions; motivation-filled askance.
Face the foes that mock you instead of taking wild jabs
and find a way to heal instead of picking at your scabs.
I've never caused you harm and you've never threatened me
I do not understand the hate that has muddled what you see.
Abhorrence is a heavy weight to bear within one's soul.
Revenge is never sated; it's a ceaseless, unquenched toll.
And with that pointed finger and its accusatory waste
there is no purpose served; it's just good energy misplaced.
An existence based on battle is lost before it begins.
There is never to be a victor; no one ever wins.
Differences exist but similarities abound.
You choose to see the former but the latter's what I've found.
Appendages, in my opine, in all the uses they've conveyed
were never meant for pointing, but instead to offer aid.
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