In the darkness of an empty dwelling,
Cozy and dreadfully quiet,
Is a young lost lady
With many human weaknesses
And whose temper tantrums are immoral.
Beautiful dark skin girl with green eyes,
Tall thin long arms and legs,
Makes one want to think
About little birds and angels
And hearts and flowers and such,
Instead her head hangs and displays gloom.
Angry at God because she is not good enough,
His thoughts somewhere else: face staring away
Like he has limitations or has abandoned her
As unworthy of serious notice.
Times have changed
even the language has changed.
There are things he should change,
God has no right
To let her get beaten to the ground
Where she has to find safety and sanctity
Where are those hands so strong
That caress without pain calming great storms.
But she hasn't the authority
To be self forgiving so she dispatches a prayer,
It is rare; but in season.