Tattered Bible Poem by Paul Mills

Deep in the bowels of man's concrete Hell
Freezing in the midst of a wintry night
Lay crippled a downtrodden frail old man
On a ghetto street adumbrate by streetlight

A sinner long since fallen by the way
Ragging clothes of filth and wear
A parasite of life's waste
Emptiness for any to share

From the shadows a product of slums innate
Stalked an aroused a misfit of man's decay
Then barefooted now the old man's fate
With swiftness and pangs he fell pray

Shivering as sudden winds toy with trash
Two ladies of the night deride and walk laughingly by
Clutching to his heart a small Tattered Bible
With untold grief the derelict begin to cry

Then holding the Tattered Bible the old man prayed

Take me home sweet Jesus
Let me stand by your side
Come now for me my deliverer
Your loving care please provide

Lord, I am so weary and need you now
All alone and so very weak
Take my hand and guide the way
Your love and forgiveness I seek

In the frozen and bitter dawn
A clergyman found this shell of a man
Trembling near his last breath
He reached out for the Pastors hand

Then as the old man lay with life draining
Tattered Bible clutched tightly to his chest
A man of misfortune trying desperately
Peace with God and everlastingly rest

Then the Old man's dying words

Father please tell him that I am sorry
For I know of my sinning way
Ask him to please forgive me
Take me home with him I pray

With tears in his eyes the Pastor prayed

Forgive him Lord of sin and shame
Please bestow you graces love
Open you heart to this lost child
And enter him into Heaven above

A moment of curiosity nearby
Then a bent old vagrant in clothes so worn
Politely asked please for the Tattered Bible
With a thank you slowly she staggered away