This I Know
At the age of five or six my Father held my tiny hand
through terrifying incest and nights of unholy unrest,
even then as small as I was I knew He had a plan
if only I could rise above this evil disgusting quest.
Then again in my twenties due to decisions I had made
I found myself beaten to a pulp and barely hanging on,
reached out and found His hand upon my soul He laid
I walked away from this man no longer his stupid pawn.
Guilt filled me that time as I broke the most solemn vow
hurting my soul inside my faith tested deeper still,
I could hear His whisper through the hell even then
He reassured me sincerely this would never be His will.
Half a century later now walking on this hard worn path
twisting and turning away as I spread seeds trying to sow,
not once have I incurred the tiniest bit of my Father’s wrath
He’s held my hand since the day I sang…
“Jesus loves me this I know.”