At times it seems Forgiveness plays
 A fleeting role in old clichés—
To be discarded or ignored
 Depending on whose ox is gored
Or when a bitter teardrop drips
 A taste of vengeance on the lips.

At first the tang is sickly sweet,
 But soon ferments to vile conceit—
Dissolving conscience and regrets
 With restless sleep and midnight sweats
Until it burns a ragged hole
 Into the substance of the soul.

No one survives a prideful war
 Declared to "even up the score"
When tongues are sharpened to berate
 And rumor mills regurgitate
With no concern for pain or cost—
 The longer fought, the greater lost.

So whether we’ve been wronged or not,
 We should observe what Jesus taught—
To love thy neighbor as thyself
 And leave thy ego on the shelf,
For only love defeats the woe
 A taste of vengeance can bestow.