Tuesday, February 26, 2019

Soup Kitchen Truth

I don’t like his finger pointing at me
or the repeated words
“If I can do it, so can you”
my fist clenches
I think I might punch him
if he doesn’t shut up

the place where I am is
nowhere near the
other side of the pit
the whisky fumes
mess with clear thinking but
dull my pain

don’t get me wrong
the heart in me waves a flag
and raises a victory song,
he did it - but I’m not him
nature wired me my way and
life built my house on sand

there’s only so many times
a man can fall before the ground
begins to feel the safest place and
getting up only sets him up
for another fall
better to stay down

“truth to tell,”
says the lady serving the soup
“it’s because you can’t do it
that Jesus came
death lowered Him into your pit and
resurrection hands will lift you out.”

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