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Rated: E · Poetry · Religious · #1172801
We somtimes have to be truly sorry to be forgiven.
Despair not little one,
For I am beside you.
Hold your head high
Tell them you love Me.
Stand up straight,
You musn't be ashamed.
You are My child.

I said, "Pick up your cross
And follow Me."
You argued and plead,
You had more important things to do.

I said, "Love your neighbor
As yourself."
I see wars and discrimination
Plaguing My world.

I said, "Feed the hungry,
Give drink to the thirsty."
People are turned away
Even from a priest's door.

I said, "You are not alone,
Lean on Me."
And still you struggle on,
Denying both My Word and My Staff.

When I said, "Do not lie,
Or cheat, or steal,"
I was not heeded,
And your world is corrupt.

You preached My Word
But have you had faith in Me?

Starving at your door,
I am parched and weak.
I have been treated unfairly,
And I suffer your hate.
You have never listened.

And you dare to stand before MY gates
And beg to enter?
I marvel at how you got this far,
For I have not yet met a mortal
Who did all that I ask, as you claim.
I gave you free will--
You make your choices.
You must suffer for them.

Are you truly sorry?
Do you truly love Me?
Tell me, Child,
You've still a chance.
If you love Me above all.
I watched you help a friend
When she wanted to die,
You were there.
You gave a dollar to the hungry man,
Not knowing what he would do with it.
You prayed for a brother
Who cursed the rest of your family.

If you really love me,
If you are really sorry,
You will come with Me.
Come now, child.

When you arrive,
You will find Me waiting.
Come, Child, all is forgiven,
And Paradise waits.
© Copyright 2006 Katy Coutley (acrucesalus at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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