Liza Sud

A Draw-Well - Poem by Liza Sud

Spit into my soul, my friends -
I don't know insults.
How can I cry
After so many Sacraments?

What I would really like
Is to show you this happiness -
After acceptance of His
Infinite love.

Spit into my soul-
And I will embrace you with arms.
Poor - you used
To spit in yourselves, dear.

But it is God who will wipe
It overnight.
How much in my soul you spit -
There water is by miracle cleaner.

Topic(s) of this poem: well

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, September 8, 2015

Poem Edited: Wednesday, September 9, 2015

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