The Reality

 Why did they not want me, God?

Was it something that I did?

Or was it that I may be flawed,

and that they would be rid

of the love I held within,

all that I had to give?

Was, for them, my heart a sin?

Why'd they not let me live?

And God held me much closer still,

and said He didn't know,

that it had been part of His will

that I'd be born and grow

and learn to laugh and learn to play...

and then He had to turn away.

Let this be an engraving

upon your Christian heart,

dedication to the saving

of those who stand apart

and weeping watch the great parade

of life go passing by.

For them the party is charade

for they are marked to die.

They are merely in the way,

an inconvenience,

but you can do much more than pray

with the best intents,

so rise and carry home the fight,

and roll back their coming night.

Under three minutes.

It was Barb writing the second sonnet. She didn't want to claim credit.

I can't think of any music to go with this

Neither can Sylvia.