Elbows on the Table
The steam rose into the passages
As passing trays of Chinese delight,
A dash here, a dash there his plate.
Rosy lines of poetry, rhyme to hell,
Give me the spicy stuff with tang,
Pile the plates so high, can be done.
Table full of eats of all kinds so nice
As his eyes looked down saw none,
Anger of such blindness of hatred.
Raising his arms V of vindictiveness
Eyes pointed to the heavens beyond
All spouting curses God’s ears heard.
God looked not away though so hurt,
The son He loved and always will, He
Understood the pains of such unknown.
But He was only God, here so helpless,
His son drowning in His sights He cried.
Why, God knew not, Love fools God too.
Pounding, pounding elbows on the table,
He screamed out, “To hell with you all,”
And they all knew his pains God said.
For they nailed His son’s hands and feet
After jeering sounds towards a man with
A cross he beared across stone streets.
These were the ones his love so adored,
The ones of the fears she had to obey,
Go away they say you are not the one.
With their voices she said go away, away,
She cried not she needed no man though,
She lied to God and self all for they man.
Elbows on the table, he looked down to
The hells below and prayed, “God, forgive
Them, for they know not what they do.
-- Steven Louis Ernest
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