Dear Lord, you know me inside out,
and love me — warts and all.
You’re always there to comfort me
and catch me when I fall.
I worship you with all I have,
but sometimes, just the same,
it’s hard to comprehend some acts
committed in your name.
For where is love reflected
in a history that tells
how radical Crusaders slaughtered
Such hatred, even to this day,
is hard to understand,
as churches preach less tolerance
than shown at Disneyland.
Oh please, before I close my fist
to cast a hurtful stone,
impress upon my foolish heart
that judgment’s yours alone.
Protect me from your followers,
who claim the inside track on knowing
what “God’s Will” allows,
As each of us alone must answer
for the things we do
that cause another soul to stumble
on the path to You.
1997 Mary Boren
View discussion on this poem.
There’s a sinister threat to freedom,
prosperity and peace
that is slithering through the tunnels
in legislative grease.
On a platform built of hatred
and ignorant “righteous” rage,
you have sullied the Lone Star emblem
across the global stage.
Running rampant beneath the mantle
it’s a mission of undermining
the thread of sanity
hanging limp in the minds of voters
confused by the disguise
who are filling their veins with venom
and rallying to your lies.
While slaughtering education
and help for the old and poor
and labeling sexual nature
a condition in need of “cure,”
you spit in the face of Jesus
and mock his example of
the worth of a life that’s rooted
in charity and love.
But we are the sons and daughters
of heroes who’d never let
fanatics dishonor Texas,
and we have not spoken yet.
Mary Boren, 2014
In the style of “The Secret People“, by G. K. Chesterton