The Cost Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

The cost one pays,
To delay decisions to make...
Has become a process,
Substituted...
By thoughts accepted to expect...
Someone else keeps this,
Prioritized as their kept...
Interest.
As if they should feel,
Obligated to remain...
Held accountable,
For every excuse produced...
And used,
By those sucking their thumbs.
With a doing done to refuse,
To acknowledge themselves...
As being the ones responsible,
For actions they've created...
Whether thoughtlessly or not!

'But...
You can not say,
What I did to do...
You were not there,
To intervene.'

-And...
You can not say,
With faith claimed to pray...
That God had been first,
To hear your accusations made.
And if this was done,
To me you would not come...
With belief I created,
Your problems to fix them.
I may be your 'brutha'.
But a miracle worker I ain't.-