Resentment
C
Cynthia Buhain-baello
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It is poison for the soul
That venom called resentment
It breaks up what is whole
And to hatred it gives vent.
Its cruel tendrils block
The heart and makes it cold
Makes kindness hard as rock
And dark its ugliness as told.
It robs the owner of sleep
Torments him with disrupted peace
Mutes the prayers that he keeps
What kind of suffering is this?
Resentment is an illness sure
That ends in soul unhappiness
And there is only one good cure
That is the release of Forgiveness!
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