Living

Be NiceMy Friend reached across the tableBe NiceI heard the words as they tripped fromhis mouthBe NiceI ponderedWhy would he say thatI am always niceEveryone I talk to will tell youI am NicePicking up my injured prideI huffed offDown the path ofBe NiceI mulled over his wordsThrew them back and forthI always try to be niceNever tying to fi nd faultIn those that pass me byAlways smiling and helping those thatcome my wayBe NiceIt was sticking in my throatHe was rightI may smileI may say the right wordsBut in my secret heartI judge all that come my wayI dont like their walkHate their clothesAnd their laughThere it wasBe NiceIs not just the outward faadeShining to the worldTelling them that I was the bestIt was the nice that was in my heartThe secret place that only God seesThere I am not niceI am really just a judgemental old bag. Be NiceYes I will be niceNot from the outside inBut from the inside out.