An Orphan No More…

Gazing into the mirror
I see a man somewhat known;
Brown skin, hair, and eyes
Yet a person not his own.

Sunlight darkens him with ease
And remains through the winter
And amidst his kin
He stands out as a splinter.

His nose, ears, eyes, jaw and mouth
His entire facial structure
Has no history
Which gives his heart a puncture.

“Where do these features come from?”
His heartache has often asked.
“Who the hell am I;
My identity is masked.”

“You were born as a mistake!”
A voice inside his pain cries,
“Cut your wrists and die!”
He fell, helpless to the lies.

A blade lay within his hand,
His knuckles were turning white,
Wrists trembling in wait,
He began to lose the fight.

He watched as it touched his skin;
Cold steel against a warm life
And pictured the blood
Which he hoped would end his strife.

Squirting, spurting, and splashing;
Bubbling, boiling and bursting
Fear poured in his heart
Adding to his soul’s thirsting.

“Fatherless, hopeless, helpless
I’m finding myself to be,
Here I try to take
My own life to set me free.”

And yet the knife was withdrawn,
Placed securely on his desk;
His heart still beating
A scene avoiding grotesque.

“You fool!” cried the evil voice,
“There is no hope to be had;
Waiting for nothing,
Your actions prove you are mad!”

“No!” whispered another voice,
“Who are you?” the orphan cried.
“I am your Father
And for your pain I have died.”

“How can this be?” he wondered,
“For you are still here with me.”
“Read the Ancient Book;
I will give you eyes to see.”

Opening to the Poet
His eyes gazed upon a line,
Which shot through his heart –
Healing it with the Divine.

“Father of the Fatherless”
His sorrow-filled eyes did read.
“The King of the Jews”
“And for my life did He bleed!”

“No!” cried the fork-tongued demon.
“Your life is for pain and death!
Cut yourself and see
Your ‘father,’ ‘God,’ wants your breath!”

And yet a thunderous voice
Spoke out from the Ancient One,
“I am his Father!
And he my beloved son!”

Brown features still stare at me
But less unknown than before;
My Father saved me,
I am an orphan no more.


Published by


“Do not mistake me for a conjuror of cheap tricks.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s