Forgiveness
A poem
’Tis hardly an easy thing to do
For he is a pest, a burden,
The world’s grandest failure,
And the greatest of all abominable men.
My heart is hardened and heavy;
He is the object of my utmost hatred.
He is but my greatest enemy.
I harbor this detestation
Long into the sunny, hopeful day
And farther into the lonely, black night.
No matter what others may say,
My forgiveness is not his right.
He asks not once for my forgiveness
And my forgiveness I do not give.
He deserves no recognition or kindness.
Yet, as the days pass by why is it so,
I start to experience such miserable emptiness?
The fog of rage has blinded my eyes,
And I turn from the homeward way.
The path I tread is bleak and dire,
Yet such is the price I pay
For my hate’s desire.
One day, with such bitter agony
Weighing on me as I walked the grim road,
Time firmly spoke to me.
It spoke of things to learn about
And all the world’s wonders to see!
And it said how this loathing I harbor?
I cannot carry this for longer
If free is something that I want to be.
’Tis hardly an easy thing to do,
To vanquish this sharp hostility
That I have declared absolutely true.
To turn my world bright with forgiveness,
When it has been for so long black and blue.
I may no longer speak of him ever again,
And I may never consider him a friend.
Yet quietly, in my heart, what once was pungent disdain
I shall start to transform and diminish.
I shall starve the force of my hatred’s reign.
When it arrives — the sunny, hopeful day,
I shall harness the light and break
These shackles that bid darkness to stay.
My eyes will focus not on sorrow and menace
I will turn homeward, and this time I shall not stray.
For I now promise to Time, who asked me to be free,
That even if forgiveness is hardly an easy thing to do
Day by day I shall forgive slightly,
I will give from my soul a sliver of it, a slice of it
And hopefully, my resentment shall one day be but a memory.
