Pride
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It comes boldly, like the winter’s cold
Immodest and smug, it can’t be told
It lives in the arrogant and the vain
Always dignified, never one to abstain
It is conceited, like the wind’s howl
Never smiling – leaves it’s dark scowl
It is egotistical beyond the belief
Not ashamed of its stolen relief
It feels so superior – a tear never falls
From its eyes, where it’s honor calls
It reminds the humble of its advantage
Without its haughtiness, can they manage?
It condescends and it says it always wins
But the believer knows it’s the biggest of sins!
Copyright © Regina Mcintosh | Year Posted 2023
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