Monday, October 21, 2013

Poem of the Day - Writing Home

A.S. Washingtin, Ameer Washington
Writing Home by A.S. Washington

Death is traveled by us all,
Though we'll never truly know it,
I say that because when I'm dead,
The story's still untold and,
I'm sure I'd like to share it with you,
So that you're more prepared,
How does something we know nothing of,
cause us much despair?
Not one day did I ponder,
Or think that life was fair,
I ask my God,
Oh why, oh why,
Why'd you put us here?
For I'd happily pray to you in heaven,
To suffer not this Earth,
Of bandying words with liars and thieves,
With the evil men in church,
Am I not one precious to you,
A child of you the same,
Than the one we call, Christ our Lord,
Who hung upon, that wooden stave,
I have not been a holy man,
From much I've not abstained,
But I feel I am a worthy lamb,
If you melt away my shame,
I loved hard, I've desired much,
I've cried many nights alone,
I know I am a wretched beast,
Which is why I'm writing home. 

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