Prodigal Son

Oh no –

You don’t get to have a case

a plea or grain of saving grace

Your pain did more than stay within; bled to the innocent, expanded your sin

You’re forgiven now?

Must be nice that

God has grace for your disgusting vice

No grace for my child,

but what do you care?

You were able to release your inner nightmare

I guess he/she/it

disregards what you did;

raising those arms in selfish praise

You don’t see the pain

I see and feel

You don’t have the burden

of a victim to raise

You took most everything

from us; you and your co-conspirators

You spread your disease of power and lust,

take a long hard look in your crooked mirror

Face what it is that you have done,

instead of acting like the fucking Prodigal Son.

Emily C. Poésie © March 10, 2015

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