Blessing
They say that God loves everyone,
Each colour, race, and creed,
And that his love is undeterred
By thought or word or deed.
Yes, he knows those shameful secrets
You hoped he could not see,
And those thoughts that never made it
Into your diary.
He's seen all your crimes of passion,
Tasted your disbelief,
He's even felt the anger
When you blamed him for your grief.
He hears those hateful prayers you sing
Wishing your brothers ill,
He hears those hateful prayers you sing
And yet he loves you still.
Your screams and curses cannot break
The bindings of his love.
He even made this world for you,
That should be proof enough.
But pity is akin to love,
Or so the adage goes.
I know there is a difference
And I think the difference shows.