If you were born omnipotent
could you resist the urge
to cause a little accident
when rankled feelings surge,
and if you lost your only friend
would you commence to raise
a soul that met it’s timely end
to suffer more harsh days?
How could such clay become divine
to sparkle holy light,
perhaps the blessed halo’s shine
is not so lily white;
ascension takes a stronger heart
that knows each day we live
should be an effort to impart
the passion to forgive.
Are You Reading Me?
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