The Derelict, They Say

Unless you’ve lived the hurt, you may not know how it is

to walk in the melancholy, in a world such as his.

The pull of the persuasive; those things of degrees

not seen by the onlooker who boldly agrees

the inward matches the outward, as they peer at the skin

of the withering man wrapped up in that sin.

Mistaken, they are, as they assume he is bound

by a devil of choice and an evil surround.

He is so very fragile, and regarded as weak

with actions they define and the words he won’t speak.

“He is not saved, just look at his way!”

Their words push him to medicate at the end of each day.

Carefully so careless, the good see him as bad,

but God calls him his child, and knows why he’s sad.

HE saw what the punishers did, during the youth of the man,

with their verbal abuse and commanding backhand.

He saw the deep sorrow that caused him to fear

the promises now whispered in his desecrated ear.

“Always drunk, always numb!” They love to take away

what’s left of a soul they claim isn’t saved.

What hope did he have? What price did he pay?

The good people took his life, way before his final day.

He was only last here, but first when time came,

in a kingdom where rest and peace do remain.

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