Sometimes we go about in life,
Giving others that, ” White Glove Test, ”
Viewing their life with such precision,
And just seeing… all of their collected mess.
But what we have seemed to overlook,
Is the mess that we live in,
Those gloves should maybe be run across,
Our own bodies filled with sin.
The sin of judging others,
Now that can be a really dirty thing,
It will stain your gloves whiteness,
Of what this sin of judging brings.
So before you decide to slip on your gloves of white,
Sweep them first around your dirty home,
You may find then you won’t want to slip them on,
And begin to leave everyone else’s dirt alone.
By: Linda Winchell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem