The clock is a’tickin

Note:

This is a heavy one. I wrote it after remembering some of the pain I’ve felt at the hands of men. Not one in particular, but many. I think this poem is for the survivor in me who wished harm to come to them, like it came to me, but also as a warning: one day your time will come. There is a power greater than me, than any of us, that knows what we have done, and what is in our hearts. So cease inflicting pain on others, lest you receive your fair share of it.

The paradox of faith is that the evidence is everywhere for everything. What you believe is simply a matter of choice. Which story are you choosing? The one that absolves you of guilt? Who carries the weight? Who is the weakest? Who threw the first stone? What are you doing to make life good for others? Does that not, in turn, make it good for yourself

Where have you gone wrong, and do you forgive yourself for it? Can you be forgiven?