He slipped into the rearmost pew,
a denim vest, no shirt.
No telling what he had gone through,
but clearly he'd been hurt
by the turns his life had taken
by drugs and fights and alcohol.
Not broken yet, but he was breaking,
and he'd hit a wall
in which, by some wonderment
a door had opened wide.
Was it choice, or was he sent?
No matter now, he stepped inside,
and when it was collection time,
he offered up his final dime.
Music from Switchfoot, with Love Alone Is Worth The Fight
Sylvia says ice cream is worth the fight, as well.
You make me want to know more about this man.
ReplyDeleteI'm guessing we might already know who he is?
DeleteLinda, yes.
DeleteDebbie, thank you for this.
DeleteThis is beautiful.
ReplyDeleteGrams, thank you so much! It was hard to write.
Delete