Vice's I Can't Give Up Poem by James McLain

I'll not repent these sins of mine,
The love that burns, the stars that shine.
Compassion's touch, my aching heart,
Empathy's thread that stitches where sorrow starts.

I trust the winds that whisper through the pines,
And freedom's taste in horizontal lines.
The ocean's song, a hymn to the skies,
Its waves, like breath, it's endless rise and fall.

The bushes bow, the trees hold sway,
Their roots hold truths no storms can wash away.
Roses in bloom, their fragrance soothing and sweet,
Leaves spring and fall, a dance of life, death's defeat.

Let vice be vice in virtue's cage that I hold,
For joy that's bought with love's coin is gold.
I'll feast on the sights that the earth unfolds,
The turquoise wave, the wild, untamed sea.

I'll kiss the thorns and feel every sting,
For pain is the cost of life's true spring.
And if my heart breaks open like the dawn,
It's worth the price for all I've gazed upon.

So judge me not for clinging to vice,
For love, not guilt, will be the cost.
These sins of mine, like roses, in bloom,
Each one a gift I'll will love not less.

In vice, I find the world in imbrace,
A fleeting taste of life's eternal grace.