Poem: Acquainted With Grief ( Part I )



The Pain Problem


Time heals all things…right?

How long must I stay until my sentence is served?

The Bluish Bruise remains recalcitrant

Achy and tender, years beyond its infliction

Hidden under suffocating bandages and baggy clothes

The yellowing of it concerns me, but only slightly

Why I am sad?  Where do all the tears come from?

A sadistic string  is attached to memory,

Even slight tugs cause my eyes to water

And my countenance to fall

These chains, these prison walls are so thick and high

Escape is not an option

I fear my rage, my right to anger

I fear the consequence, of being wrong

I fear because of painful loss, the disquieting of my soul

I masquerade as a Christian, under the guise of peace

I hide my heart from my Father

And hold him responsible…why wouldn’t I?

He could fix this!  Is there Holy enjoyment in my suffering?

This  is unGodly punishment

Yanking my chains like a manic marionette,

I wallow and writhe upon His Command

Here’s a new law for Newton, “God makes the decision and

I bear the consequence.”

It might be easier to not believe, but then who would I blame?


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