Empty vase, shattered dreams;
Tender smile, stolen blush.
Burning tears, hope’s bitter end,
Yearning, longing, wasting away.
Why must I see the good today as tender children have their innocence stolen away, and women are ravageously beaten into cold submission? Wolves in sheep’s clothing devour the flock, posing as compassionate youth leaders and Spirit-led pastors. Why must I only show the good to other Christians as if the world is blind to closet skeletons and walking corpses? Why must we sit in silence as the blood of our children’s blush calls out to be heard, sealed up in the bondage of “a man’s good name”? What of their wounds? What of their scars? What of mine.
What of those destroyed tomorrow, next week, and next year? Yet, here we sit with rose-colored glasses, wishing away the world’s darkness, as a brother or sister yearns to cry out in pain, trapped without hope of relief or escape.
But you only want to hear “the good” .
