There are things that are stolen from

the young,

the vulnerable,

the weak,

the confused,

and the naive,

that can never be gotten back.

Some seeds die, never to grow again.


This grieves me deep today.

I am watching closely as people who believe they “know” show how little they have known.

My first response is outrage for the woman you slaughter with such ease. Then seeps in a slow sense of profound pity.

You mock;

you scoff;

you cast your lots;

you smirk;

you surmise;

you philosophize,

God help me,

you even moralize,

the victimized.

While she hangs her naked soul on that man made cross she was never meant to bear.

So old, this story is.

So old, I feel.

search previous next tag category expand menu location phone mail time cart zoom edit close