judging George

I once heard a man called Judge
He had never been to court
Never owned a wig and gown
He just never had the urge

I spoke to him, my words curt
I completely thought him deceptive
And thought him to be a liar
And he fumed in all his ire

I stood before judge a decade later
Or his remains in a cold graveyard
And bothered to read his epitaph.
He was George but not a judge
My mind transfixed, I walked along
And I wondered as I wandered
The number of times I was guilty of bypassing
Of how many people had this mistake made
Of the wars it had started
of the friendships it had ended
Of the living it had turned dead
And how many would discover
That their judge was truly George
Then did I remember
Solomon’s saying , he did speak
In all thy getting get understanding