Tuesday, October 04, 2011


Conceit, I would cleanse myself of thee
To find out if untainted truth is easier to see;

Deceit, I shall shun thy tempting lure
In order for my senses to detect a fact that’s pure;

Anger, I must rein that harsh retort
Which manifests in battle, whether mortal or for sport;

Languor, I can crush thy lack of force
By riding forth with passion, regardless of the course;

Neglect, I need never fear the knave
Forsaking everything they love for power that they crave;

Respect, I will vow to always strive
To practice thee on every soul I meet while I’m alive.


Carrie Van Horn said...

You have high and beautiful standards Bob...love this! :-)

Word Catalyst Magazine said...

Sounds like the man I have known for many years now. :)

rch said...

Well this is more of a wish list than anything else, but I'm trying :D