Under His Feet Poem by Barbara Vanier

Alone He sits with His poison pen
At times a sword that holds no kin
Pouring out a field of disaster
But He never knows what He is after

His every wound another badge of honor
Every dropp of blood closes the final hour
This mental breakdown might rise or ebb
But this madness won’t be the end of Him

He takes an ancient rosary
To the hall of a distant memory
Hell above, must He lay in defeat?
Oh, No! Heaven is under His feet

Frustration sits, falls and rises
Every thought for them a compromise
Can you get…? You’re such a good boy
Learned to please them for reward

He takes an ancient rosary
To the hall of a distant memory
Hell above, must He lay in defeat?
Oh, No! Heaven is under His feet

Growing older, growing slower
Keeps growing no more within
Growing larger, expected charger
He forgets the boy in Him

Heaven awaits but He can’t go there
He can’t survive with no air
So He sits in Hell and waits for you
He don’t care, live or die
All you need is to look in his eye
Sits in hell and waits for you

For you to care
For you to care
Won’t you care for Him?