Sign of the Times

Maybe, becasue I am not good enough, God is trying to show me, that there are are so many things that will never be explained? 

(I cannot earn his love.)

Then, that ungrateful bundle of adoloescents, told me I was fat, old and unneeded and that I should leave.

All words spoken with the complete fullness of adolescent narcicissm, immunity to responsibility and after all they only spoke the truth,
laughing and praising themselves, oblivious.

Then there was me,
my first reaction,
that instinct to go for the throat, with sharp words and viens full of poison,
to spit in their blank faces,
to see how they would react,
push the moment to its crisis!
What would their reaction be to their own experience with truth?

(obnoxious brats)

I fall away and fail to show grace,
to find my way back from the edge of this selfish and indulgent cliff,
then comes the realization that this struggle will never come to an end and that the best I can do is to turn, repent and believe.

I see their blank faces,
I see how they dont care at all,
they don"t even know that I am here.
They dont care about anything I have to say,
taking selfies,
obsessed with eye shadow palettes and prom dresses.

We were hardly nurtured as children,
to tired from playing,
to notice that our parents were marching at their own pace to where I am now.

We all lived for summer,
the road would never end...
(and now it is comong up to December and we are waiting for a slice of Spring to wake us up.)

Childhood freinds,
some now gone,
unanswered calls,
quiet house and the appraoch of Fall.

That school,
silent and empty,
non descript,
listen closely to the echoes,
soft and fading fast.

Looming seasons,
lasting, time made memories,
falling and crashing into emotional cresendoes.

T.S. Deary
4/15 - 4/20/2023

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