Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2017
now (i) look into his eyes; can he hear us
(i) have seen no visions; only a movie
no matter; it is enough for (my) soul to stir
the simmering *** is where the truth may be

where to start; humility has bound (my) veins
(i) read the words of a bitter man; justified
somehow (i) accepted responsibility for his trials
(i) confessed though (my) white skin never lied

(i’m) trying to decide how to describe (myself)
it’s better to sit in a shadowed corner of a room
you can never prove what you would have done
but he knows (my) fears; they ensured his doom

holy water washed his ribs clean
we have filled our cups yet it remains dry
we cannot believe he is risen nor our evil ways
so (i) listen to horn blasts from man; not the sky
Mark Lecuona
Written by
Mark Lecuona
367
   Just Melz and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems