Why do you look at me and fret? Why do you look at me and curse?
Why do you speak badly of a friend? You are only staring at dried scars!
If I were to tell you of my errors, if I were to confess to you my brother
I think you would change your mind and call me the devil instead
If I were to tell you my blunders, if I were to confess to you my sister
I think you would change your mind and call me a criminal wanted
My sin was dark, what you see does not scare me at all, this is trivial
Extremely, for my sin was big, treason, even Satan was once afraid of his filial!
I can tell you for sure, even with your scapel eyes, even with that microscopic
Acuity, you still will never tell what kind of sinner I was, terrific,
Till this surgeon knocked, and I readily opened, for I was severely wounded
And needed immediate spiritual attention, or else I would to Sheol descend
I am left wondering why I am forgiven this much, that even a serial killer
Can be pardoned and the blood stained turned from crimson red to wool
That one who walked with a raptured life and heart now carries life whole!
Having received a life, fashioned and sculptured into form by the true potter
And so when you look at me and fret, and curse and sadden and judge
I want to stand and charge you to dare cut deep spiritually beyond the badge
And you will budge learning that it is not as it seems for the cleaning done already
Has left all clean and no human eye or word can again render this life dirty
And so my brother, my sister, hear me preach to you good news
As Isiah says we look back to the rock from which we were hewed
Sometimes I also look back to the world of liquor and sex and weed
And I see that indeed from nothing, I have been raised and heaved
To a life abundant and joy unfathomed that was not deserved
Yet I know for us all, this gift, from eternity was for us reserved for eternity
You see, if you do not look around, you may well fail to find your way
Through the mire in which you stand, till you put on the spiritual eyes
And look and look for the way is usually not straight even when one is watchful
It's possible to slide and fall either to the left or to the right, never be prideful
For I have once been and I fell terribly, yet the Lord did not forget to recall
And I cried daily to my God asking Him to return me to the highway
And Indeed He did answer, after I humbled myself and did the needful
And so, my beloved brother and sister I ask again,
Why do you look at me and fret? Why do you look at me and curse?
Why do you speak badly of a friend? You are only staring at dried scars!
If I were to tell you of my errors, if I were to confess to you my brother
I think you would change your mind and call me the devil instead
If I were to tell you my blunders, if I were to confess to you my sister
I think you would change your mind and call me a criminal wanted
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem