Tags
Abuse, Lot, Parenting, Rejection, Self Loathing, Toxic Masculinity
Role of thunder
downpour of rain
silver lining
can’t mend my pain.
The lightning strikes,
the thunder rolls,
tears of Heaven
can’t cleanse my soul.
Mix soil and rain
when planting seeds
but no downpour
wash soil off me.
The muck and mire,
clinging red clay,
though rain pelts down
don’t wash away.
The dirt that’s crept
to soul from pores,
eats at marrow,
leaves open sores.
I’ve lepers marks
for all to see
stand beneath rain
eternally.
Reign King of Kings
reins in my mouth
shatters my teeth
that I spit out.
Forever is
my Lot in life
to have flesh scourged,
skin peeled by knife.
My God, my God,
abandoned me!
So many sons
crucified trees.
Unworthy deemed,
reared in neglect,
then upbraided?
Objects abject.
It’s said the fruit
falls near the tree,
call me worthless?
I’m your proxy.
That rain and soil
for planted seed?
Sweet nourishment?
Never received.
What did you think?
How could it be?
That I’d grow tall
oh, great Daddy?
A word of love,
encouragement?
Denied to me?
Reap your harvest.
Broken spirit.
No love. No hope.
Your handiwork
for sight myope.
None are so blind
as will not see,
you never saw
the good in me.
Role of thunder
downpour of rain
silver lining
can’t mend my pain.
The lightning strikes,
the thunder rolls,
tears of Heaven
can’t cleanse my soul.