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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Spiritual >> ID #1509518 |
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A Man Not a Number Pardon me, Mister, but that man that you disdain, Was once a carefree child laughing in the rain. He's not just a number, a faceless man in white, Somewhere someone prays for him long into the night, He's a man with a name and was his father's pride and joy, His Grandpa taught him how to fish when he was a little boy. Just another heartless convict, not fit to walk the street? His wife longs for his loving touch, so gentle and so sweet. Holding a letter reading, "Daddy, I sure miss you." His eyes filll with tears as he whispers, " I love you too." His mother touches his picture and plans another visit, A long drive for a short talk, but she would never miss it. Don't turn away from me, Mister, listen to what I say, But for the grace of God, it could be you in his place today. None of us are guiltless, we all walk a road of sin, Some of us get broken til God brings us home to mend. Yes, I'm crying Mister, because that man that you disdain, Holds my heart forever, through sunshine and through rain. Dedicated to my boys Love, Mom
© Copyright 2008 Rose of Sharon (UN: sharond at Writing.Com).
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