Poetry, Pt. 1

I've been embarking on a new adventure.  One that I've been doing for a long time (though not on here, sorry).  I really hated academic writing.  My dissertation was nightmarish.  However, I love words and I like writing creatively.  My poetry has been published under pen names in various places, but I've decided to just stop worrying about whether what I'm writing is perfect or whether people will like it and just click "publish."


Two friends 

Today someone asked me about my regrets

If I died today what would be my debts,

to society,

to piety,

whether I'd have notoriety

and who I'd be

The first thing I thought were the things that I've done

To hurt and blame

I just having fun

Causing drama

and relationship trauma

Taking anything and everything to make me feel calmer

I was in a terrible mental state

In a prison I that knowingly helped create

Throwing caution to the wind

While my emotions dimmed 

And darkness followed me round the bend

And my biggest regret involves my two friends:

Both I lied to and hurt and misrepresented

And I'm so glad Facebook hadn't yet been invented

Their reactions made me who I am today

But they both responded in different ways

One saw my pain, discerned but ignored it

Fled from the scene when she should've run toward it

Her love was expensive and I couldn't afford it.

The other bound up my wounds and carried my burdens

Encouraged me when my very life seemed uncertain

When all I had was dark, she just pulled back the curtain

She never looked at me with scorn or derision

And never judged me for my rough disposition

and never made me feel like an imposition

And she wasn't the Christian

She never saw my actions as some price of admission

to an exclusive club of sin prohibition

She just loved me and loved me in vain repetition

And she wasn't the Christian

She never needed recognition

Or used my sin as ammunition

but somehow fulfilled the Great Commission

And she wasn't the Christian

She showed me true love without condition 

She gave me vision,

And I was her mission

And she wasn't the Christian

And yet since then I've been the first friend

The one shown grace who wouldn't touch sin

who judges others lives with no idea of what's within

We like to think we're so filled with purity

But really we're worried about emotional security

Far more concerned with the number of bums in church seats

than we are caring for the ones on the street

We don't want to cause discomfort or disunity

And we're missing love's greatest gospel opportunity

We've forgotten to forgive our debtors

when they sin against us we think we're so much better

If Jesus returned and asked us tonight

our alibis for where we've been would be airtight

I'm sure that all of our service is worthy

But we would be more like Jesus if we got our hands dirty

Loving others means carrying their baggage

Being there even when it's more than we can manage

Stepping out and letting him protect our hearts

and not turning our backs if others seem to miss the mark

If I'm going to live eternally, I want no regrets

I'm not going to live like one who forgets

The price of a life given up as loss

When he carried my sin upon a cross

There are two paths we can follow:  love or slavery.

I'm breaking my chains.  I choose to be free.