The outraged crowd
threw me at His feet-
impact.
Choking on dust
and inhaling shame
I prepared to make
this dirty ground
my grave.
Closing my eyes
one final time
the burning tears
fell slowly down my face.
It didn’t make sense;
so many husbands
never really knowing love.
It was too late
for answers now,
so I waited.
But when I looked up
I saw no one.
Stones left behind
on the ground.
“Who is there
to condemn you?” He asked.
“No one” I said.
No one.
The bodies on the page spoke clear as day
This was her lot; there was no other choice
She was an object purposed for display
What skin she showed would now become her voice
They told her she was worth what she would sell
Gaining the world, she forfeited her soul
Her beauty here was worth the chance of hell
Starving herself so that she could feel whole
But every now and then she sees a light
Power that comes from God and not from man
A chance to be forgiven and rewrite
Holding to hope- there is a bigger plan
God help me understand how I can be
no more enslaved to my Anatomy
The Glass Poems 