You say I am to blame for using the cane with my shame.
I will lay prostrated for you now.
As you choose to play at the gate
in a way so loose in front of God,
My memoir sits embellishing the hits
with my might, and makes me the overachiever,
Prosecuting and rebuking your feed and ways
Getting a real deal with memorizing my heart
when I lay my art at your hands.
Its up to you only to record your duty.
Pulling out the weeds and letting bloom the one who created you
is the mystery . so enriching as you lose your pitch you know
who you have to depend on. To mend your scarf.
Is not in shaming God, but yourselves.
In the beauty that influences your tame.