Plea
How shall he begin to say this?
His pride scares him off
As a mighty man it stands before him, he’s so afraid
He knows, he needs not be squeamish
Neither needs he be grumpy
For perhaps his friendship was just smarminess in sunshine
He’s ashamed and cannot stare in the eyes of the angel
Each smile reveals his weakness;
Her laughter, his latent pain
How shall he begin to say “I’m sorry? ”
She’s vivacious, intelligent, dutiful and attractive
But what is he...
Nasty, irresponsible, carefree, kiddy and yielding
How could he…let her in whom he found joy down?
How could he, paid back good with evil?
He is sorry!
Do not leave him here, in oblivion and in obsession
Forgive him and let the soul within him be healed!
…as we forgive those who trespass against us… Luke 11: 4.
poem by Nicholas Boateng
Added by Poetry Lover
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