Fault.
Such an unforgiving finger.
Never pointing far enough away,
we run from the direction
we ourselves set.
A standard we must learn to dodge.
Some of us have the fortune to do so,
the rest of us do not.
I wonder why we keep the finger where we do.
Why nobody seems to question
the degrees downward it points.
Isn’t fault just a construct?
An ignorance from recognizing
it can always go another step back?
For if it were universal as we think,
wouldn’t it be uniform as it be?
I suppose they are wrong,
but then so could we.
We blame and punish the sinners of our world.
For it is them,
and never me.
For they must fix all that they are,
and still
never me.
Fault is an interesting game.
One that I wish we played together.
One where we would simply say,
“We’re sorry.”
