You’re running full speed, as if in a race,
Someone sticks out their foot; you fall flat on your face.
Not such a big deal—that may be the impression,
But their little joke is a serious transgression.

In the Parshah this week there’s a mitzvah we find,
“Don’t put a stumbling block before the blind.”
If someone is ignorant in any which field,
Don’t give them advice with results that won’t yield.

We’ve already been told, “Love your fellow Jew,”
“Don’t hurt another,” and, “Be honest,” too,
So why is this situation being specified?
There must be another commandment implied.

If there’s someone in need that comes to you for advice,
Don’t open your mouth, and then stop to think twice.
“Is this going to help me? How do I seek to gain?”
There’s a serious flaw in this kind of mindframe.

Your advice may not harm them, that’s true,
It’s just slightly tempered so it suits you too.
But a stumbling block doesn’t have to be stone,
It can be soft and cushioned—doesn’t break any bones.

We each see the world through our own pair of eyes,
But sometimes we have to climb out of our guise.
Step into your friend’s shoes, walk around for a moment,
Think of what they need—no selfish component.

Sometimes our giving is really to get,
We sadly lose focus and seem to forget,
That true love is selfless, because simply, you care,
It’s a love that is precious and much too rare.

In a certain element, everyone’s blind,
Your ulterior motives they may never find,
Don’t stumble and fool them into thinking you’re kind,
When really, your own benefit is on your mind.