L C Vieira (Lisbon, Portugal)
Bless The Child
Bless the child who's blessed me,
bless the child who's cursed me,
and stolen from and hurt me.
Bless the child I've deserted,
and turned from without a word,
too busy, too much, too real.
Bless the child I've kicked out,
then locked my door to him,
annoyed, angry, bitter.
Bless the child I've done nothing to,
and the one who's done nothing back,
the one I've ignored every time.
Bless them all Lord;
take my many mistakes,
and turn them right side up,
inside out, and brand new.
unexpected, wonderful, from You.
Comments about this poem (Bless The Child by L C Vieira )
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