it's a cycle

we say we won't be like them but in the silence between the judgments In the hours lost to pondering and wandering we quietly become the very thing we loathe we hold a mirror up to their faults shout what they should be should not be so loud that we forget to look inside and see who's growing in the shadows of our own making because while we're so busy pointing fingers the reflection is changing,shifting and we do not see the cracks forming in our own skin that very trait we despise it's creeping in like a slow poison quiet as a whisper and soon we're not so different after all.