Promise you won’t ruin my crucifixation.
On my ability Honestly to listen. In
Hands stretched out to your messiah much ashamed and full of guilt
Is there enough healing to go around for all my friends?
I gave into the pressure but you compromised the fall.
Cushioned me and took
away the practicality of applying patience.
Arms opened and receiving from a savior
Look toward your maker. I
Is there enough redemption to trickle down thru me?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem