JUDGMENT HAS A FACE
From behind a door, walking down a street, who are
They wander around, they look without a friendly sound.
With paper and pen, not a friend as they may smile
Watched you are as you walk, speak, examined over
A way you dress.
Judge me with your thoughts but what is there to see
I am judged by those who I never again see, strangers,
Judgment has a face, not the same as it changes from
Day to place,
We are judged with the rotation of our world, travels
With the wind.