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The price of hate
(From the Woodsman’s Notebook)
You said I stole the love from your childhood so for
this I need to pay.
You can see that I am 50 now I’m still living in your
hate.
Day by day I am still praying, for that one day you
would see.
The decisions and choices made back then had nothing to
do with me.
What love were you missing? I have not a clue. I guess I
was so sickly then;
Did you ever think I wanted to be more like you?
Did you think the attacks I was going through just a
childish game or race?
All the worry I must have caused them; do you think I
made first place?
Or starvation for a mother’s love is absolutely not the
case.
It couldn’t have been a mother’s love while the smoke
was blown in my face.
Was the love there like you really think, did I really
steel from you? |
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- Then
climb into my shoes one day and take a step or
two.
You claim you remember childhood for the things
they put you through.
For all the hate and discontent, yes; I remember
too!
You think it was so easy and how I had it made.
To think I took their love from you, how sick,
putrefied and decayed.
You thought you were so cute and quick the way
you mimicked me each day.
The sickly faces and words of hurt, all
heartlessness and ignorance I have endured,
It’s the pain that I live today you can surely
be rest assured. All the childish guilt and
dishonesty you have laid in my path along the
way but listen now and listen well.
You took part in creating who I am today.
There is something that has happened; I don’t
expect you to understand. The walls that blocked
my memory have turned to dust and sand. Even
though you feel hate and discontent this one
thing I hold as true. The Lord Jesus gave me the
power of one thing, and that is power of still
loving you.
- The Woodsman
7/30/07
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