It took her five years and four months to forget about what they did to her.
They hurt her feelings, her self worth, and she couldn't let it go,
understandably so.
How could they not see their wrong
she tried to tell them, to explain, but it only came back in torrents of pain.
Unaccepted is where she stood.
How was she supposed to forgive when they refused to see
when the cut was so deep
when she needed time to heal
before she could begin to let go?
Aren't there supposed to be equal parts between you and me?
Even if they truly couldn't see
does she still forgive
or wait until the sun rises above the clouds
making clarity shout outloud
for her to see the path bright, shiny and new
leading the way for her to say I forgive you?
When she finally understands?
When the why's and who's and how's
are finally clear in her mind,
making sense
to make it right
to make it right to forgive?
And when he was breathing his final breaths
he turned to this Jesus man he didn't know but heard about
the buzz of the town
and the cries of the people
were all around
all the carnage left behind
of what he did, unspeakable acts.
Those he hurt, the lives he took,
the lives he ruined
they would never get resolve.
But maybe I, he thought
even me, with all the rest
no one else would think it
I'm getting what I deserve now
and I'm almost gone,
but there's still time, maybe.
It's what I've heard anyway.
So he turned and gave it a try,
Would you please, he murmured
forgive me too?
And in an instant
he received
just like that.
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