A Liturgy for the Wronged

The line between venting and gossip
Is too fine for my rage-blinded eyes to perceive.
The dam which stems the bitter flood
Of careless words is cracking.
So teach me, oh my dear Lord Christ,
Not to revel in commiseration
Nor to flee to hidden corners 
And entrench my mind in a record of wrongs. 
I cast my cares upon You.
My cross of frustration
And false accusation
I will place in the hands of true Justice,
For I refuse to water the weeds with my tears.

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