Diary Entry 73

Six pounds of flesh

lent to one at birth,

molded by wounds

that bite and hurt.

 

Years later, a bag

bound to one in chains,

attached to a soul

whose past it claims.

 

Lugging this sack

through bitter high tides,

Please, Lord, help one

to carry it by Your side.

 

To you, oh, Lord,

the truth be told,

now frightened to see

what inside the sack holds.

 

Would You promise

no more grief and pain

from the enclosed past

bound by those chains?

 

“No, I cannot

promise such things,

but I know what

in that bag does

to your soul cling.”

 

Whatever inside asks

one to go through,

know I will always

support the weight

they must choose.

 

Let us put the sack down

and weary hands now tether;

link by link, that heavy bag

we’ll open Together.”

 

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