Aug 2015
On having thought of the deeds I do
Day in, day out, and all through
Some I wish I hadn’t done
Though doing which was no fun
Slapping my own baby,
Hurting a daughter
For instance
I am no man, maybe
I reel, and I totter.
Often I repent, life’s force spent
Yet on living on, hell bent
Sometimes it’s just a thought I bore
Heart from heart, gut wrenching
Usually only a word that tore
Mouth’s bile, soul drenching
Doubt engulfs me unknowing
Words my own, self rending
Even I know when I am no match
For a conciliatory patch,
Plod on I must, myself to prove
I may yet find my gentle groove.
Day in, day out, and all through
Some I wish I hadn’t done
Though doing which was no fun
Slapping my own baby,
Hurting a daughter
For instance
I am no man, maybe
I reel, and I totter.
Often I repent, life’s force spent
Yet on living on, hell bent
Sometimes it’s just a thought I bore
Heart from heart, gut wrenching
Usually only a word that tore
Mouth’s bile, soul drenching
Doubt engulfs me unknowing
Words my own, self rending
Even I know when I am no match
For a conciliatory patch,
Plod on I must, myself to prove
I may yet find my gentle groove.
Repentance is a part of our living that we ought to take very seriously, I feel. In the realisation that repentance can be damning and disastrous, we need to find the tools to forge a self better than the one before. For which reason, perhaps, repentance is such a critical part of our lives. On a positive note, it should lead one on to hope for one's self.
