by Rebecca Somoskey

Within the heart of every man
There dwells a private pain.
Shards of memory from the past,
Determined to remain.

Regrets that slash and rip and gash.
Piercing wounds, splintered dreams.
Sorrows hack and tear and claw.
Stabbing guilt, anger screams.

Why can we not be free of them?
Those squatters have no right
To stay ‘cause He’ll evict them
By His own power and might.

Perhaps we can’t be free because
Our sins we can’t forgive.
So drag those tyrants to His feet,
Turn loose, then freely live.

Unforgiveness means we have not let go of our anger, so forgive yourself.


(Originally published Jun 25, 2007)