TO THE ACCUSED

You have dug in your heels, brother, in a way
That I have to say resembles an ass.
Please do not get mad at the things I say
For I only serve as a looking glass
That shows you the way that you may appear
To outsiders. Inside I have no doubt
You mean well, but facts are facts, and I fear
Your goodness fails to get all the way out.
The best hearts sometimes tread on a child’s toes
By mistake. Why not admit a mistake
Was made? What possible, dimly-glimpsed woes
Keep you from saying, “Sorry?” Does it take
The child apologizing for their toes
To keep your high dudgeon from thorning your rose?

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