2018 Sonnet 49

Of all the evil people, roughly half
Think themselves to be righteous and holy.
But which am I? I beat my breast and laugh
And boast about humility that solely

Shields my soul from sights of mirrored darkness
Lest I should loathe myself like I loathe them.
Those evil people’s evil ways in starkness
Whose chance to walk the narrow way is slim.

Of all the evil people, roughly half
Know they are bad and maybe half of those
Wish they were not. They welcome rod and staff
And pray with pruning something better grows.

Of all the evil people, many more
Will make amends on this side of the door.