Flower Petals Around Her Eyes – Poem

Flower Petals Around Her Eyes.jpg
Croydon Graffiti

She was a beautiful girl

With flower petals around her eyes

Many sad pictures they’ve seen,

This life was born into lies…

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She was created by love

And had a pure little heart…

Yet, before she turned seventeen,

Her face was far from His art.

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If the house, she lived in, had eyes and ears

It would hear constant weeping

It would witness her tears.

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Thus, her soul embraced many a crime

Pictures she saw changed who she was –

No, it wasn’t just time…

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Just like her mum, she too became wild

She quit school at thirteen

At fourteen, she was carrying a child.

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She gave birth and her baby away

Since then, she’s been drinking, every single day.

She tried many evils, under the Sun…

And she run, she run – like a wild horse she run.

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While searching for love and for an escape

She became familiar with the pain of rape.

So, she run even faster, but could not run away

Until… she yielded and started to pray…

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Only then, she knew she was truly heard.

He sounded unlike the others, who yelled,

Punched her belly and slapped her face…

There was only love within His embrace.

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Amazing Grace!

It washed her mind and erased her curse.

Now, she was ready to embrace His verse.

She became His child. She was fifty, by then.

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The world had told her she’s worthless,

and yet… He bought her…

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His Life was the Price!

They studied wrinkles she had acquired

He focused on petals around her eyes.
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She had nothing to give, but gave Him her all
Now, the world sees art – not a dirty wall.
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The Plea of a Gnarled Tree – Poem

woman tree

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. I’ve been thinking about you a lot

You capture attention – mine surely got caught

So, here’s my reaction to your heartfelt plea

The plea of a gnarled and exhausted tree

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This detail won’t stroke your ego

It won’t make too many mentions,

but the road to hell is paved with details,

or is it ‘with good intentions’?

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Never mind…

I know you mean well,

Still, one cannot ‘good-deed’

Their way out of hell…

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Even so…

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In doing good we must leave no stone unturned

Yet, Grace is a Gift which cannot be earned…

This gift is not carved into tablets of stone

We cannot reach peace on our own…

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Bread can be hardened, and yet

You can never turn stone into bread…

The truth’s independent of one’s belief

If you bite into stone, you will break your teeth

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Some say truths are many, but how many are there?

And how can those ‘truths’ contradict one another?

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There is only One… for the old and the youth

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“What makes me think that I’ve met the Truth?”

I am Free Finally – I take that as a proof

There is mercy and grace for those who repent

Even to the gnarled trees that are twisted and bent.

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