Library ----- Table of Contents
To have been stuck upon my bed,
Back flat against the floor.
On Friday was the fast for which
The soul struggled to last.
The greatest dream that I had had?
To die and meet my end
So unto God I could then pass
To pleasures of the next.
But one day was not enough
To starve oneself to death,
And even if I did commit,
Heaven I would reject.
We couldn’t all be like Judas,
What with his broken stool.
Some saints lived quick and virtuous lives
While others suffered long to die.
Each day I was not up with He,
A sword unto my side.
To bear with frail and weak body,
When death would give me all the time.
No reason to sleep.
No reason to dream
In this world of worthless things.
Evil tried to have me tricked
To think what was easy to get was hard.
Whole plays made about the “love”
Between young man and a maid!
Such things caused whole towns of boys
To cry for lack of waif,
But with God, I got so smart
That I knew the cost of love,
Love bought, love which was not,
Love loved, love which was.
The former, I hated that I ever sought,
But knowing gave me comfort,
In knowing I was smart,
Smarter than those who felt
They had no choice but to starve.
But me? I could have had my fun,
But for God I did not
Because even if all my acts
Were born from a wretched heart
I prayed that though my soul stained black
All good born from my acts
Could be given for God’s task.
No matter how I felt about my loathsome self,
I sought to do all my Lord said
To have eternal life and avoid eternal death.