The Choice

 Pain comes to claim my heart.
The needle or the pen,
The choice is before me again
Pain comes to claim my heart.
 
The needle or the pen?
Will I write to claim the pain
Or will I let drugs have free reign?
The needle or the pen?
 
Will I write to claim the pain?
Pour out memories that taunt
Till they no longer haunt,
Will I write to claim the pain?
 
Pour out memories that taunt
Aloud on paper white
Or seek poison to silence the fight?
Pour out memories that taunt.
 
Aloud on paper white
Ugly letters scrawled in black ink
Create a space for me to think.
Aloud on paper white.
 
Ugly letters scrawled in black ink
Pain comes to claim my heart
Memories now written still rip my life apart
Ugly letters scrawled in black ink
 
Pain comes to claim my heart.
The needle or the pen,
The choice is before me again
Pain comes to claim my heart.

My attempt at the form Catena Rondo, as introduced at Poetic Bloomings.

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Tell A Story

Track marks tell a story
she wishes they didn’t tell
about a girl who faltered
as to smack she fell
when her heart was bleeding,
bruised by evil men
 
His scars tell a story
she grieves that they tell
about the Innocent who died
as to evil men he fell
when His heart stopped beating,
thrashed and hung upon a cross.
 
His grave tells a story
she rejoices that it tells
about a dead Man raised
to overcome her hell
when His tomb was empty,
defeated death and evil men.
 
Her life tells a story
she humbly does share
about a drug addict rescued
by the King’s gentle care
when He silenced accusations,
made a new creation.
 
Her scars tell a story
she’s no longer shamed to tell
Bout a Savior who renamed her
made her sick heart well,
when he freed from heroin’s call
healed harm done by evil men.

Stained Glass

Stained glass people fill the pew
wondering if they are really new
Bright joyful smiles on the outside
Hearts shattered  pieces  inside
Hiding from judgmental view

Oh, if the broken but knew
all the pieces  now askew
by the Savior are priceless fired,
His  Masterpieces love-inspired
windows we see God's mercy through. 

Broken shards forged to form a view 
of mercy, grace, and the Word True
His glory, your good  His desire
Shines bright from the heavenly fire
God's love through Christ makes you new.





Perfect Peace

Gentle breeze breathes a sigh,
rustling leaves in passing by.
Eagles quiet glide on high
spying prey from the sky.
Lazy river sings its song,
hitting rocks that don’t belong.
Swing groans in rhythmic beat
as feet make it sway, retreat.
Soul surrenders to perfect peace
as to the Creator fears release.

Written in response to Poetic Bloomings Prompt #243: Motivation – Tranquility