I Used To Have A Purpose Poem by James McLain

I used to have a purpose and my pain
like yours once had some understanding.
And like yours,
my white thin shell molds more than a
shallow undertaking.

The good heart of a man knows when the
fruit will always break.
And knowing that in death the door has closed.

Would you do you know that he has asked for
someone else,
and each miracle that you see and hold
that has caused you, your great joy.

The warning sign you hung upon their wall,
gave you less to talk about.
About how far that one can fall through words
when strung together were worth more
than he once said!

Did he naught to you I'd ask, yeah or neigh?

You hold me off,
while I have always held you in and have thought
like all the rest I'm just like them.

In your heart is this a sin or business sense?
And yes you know of my regrets for regrets can
change the meanest of all men.

Would you watch my pain with eye's that see
the winter of my grief and yes it comes.

To covet what one has one has not earned like
the few who have worked hard.
When as a child a lantern was much needed
just to see.

Men and many women have this pain that is
self-chosen and unaware of this have turned to drugs
or alcohol!

Yeah the knowledge through your hand has kept
you well and bitter potions far at Bay.
And the truth that through decernment have you ignored?

Wise is such a man who has a heavy hand he need not use.
And though heavy and still hard, he has guided it by
love that keeps his hand, Unseen.

And if the Potter molds the cup from which you drink,
fashioned from the clay from where you live and sometimes stay.
And now knowing this,
you know that your red cup is made from loving tears.


Copyright © James McLain | Year Posted 2017