We live in an age where misspoken words are scarcely forgiven; since they have filed themselves permanently in our screenshot galleries. Forgiveness comes only after an appropriate degree of forgetfulness.
Reasonably must we re-word the opinions we share.
Once an angel without wings, forced my eyes open to my indiscretion. Vividly she painted a future in which my children stumble onto my casual disregard. More then lifelike, but a warning of the most likely reality.
Regret is a flower with roots laced in fear, showered in milk white sour petals appear. The sun will make rotten what once it made ripely and rain will feed lands it had once let perish.
A filter requires a dam to restrain the vapid.
Habits like thorns prick thumbs and to each leaves a law; do not say words not worth repeating, and do not type thoughts that are not worth speaking.
Rarely do intentions and actions align.
Who masters patience and virtuous diplomacy will witness greatness in their time, a purpose; truly self-refined.