She's dying and resentful. After all the pain, where were her three score and ten? |
Brother Esau Before I laid my head to die, before old memories curled to rust, I asked just one more question. I implored your majesty "Why did thou hatest me?" From womb to grave, it seems to me no matter how I worked, the lie that followed me from quick to end was "in his majesty you can trust." How you despised me. From birthing seed the plans were laid to take from me what others claimed to be their due, three score and ten. To Esau he said "think again my friend. Who do you think you are?" No health, no wealth, just poverty, no home, just shacks and hunger. Of shame, I was no shocked stranger. My hands were dipped, and you said "it's not personal, you just don't win." Run away parents, privacy stolen I thought it would never end until I, too, ran far afield. Escaping, I thought I had beat it, my birthright protected. I couldn't know, I got lazy then, but the punch was not there, not valid, no date of arrival to other side. A stub with destination shorn said "nowhere to go, no one cares." So I drank the bitter cup, the dregs crying over life's porridge lost, the vile cup of soup not worth the trip, And I lay down my head and I died, like you, my brother, Esau. |