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One Mother’s Prayer

Updated on February 9, 2013

Lord, how can You let a boy

kill a man? My soul is kneeling,

Lord. This is my Gethsemane. I

prayed you’d keep Judases from

putting the kiss of death on

my boy, but You haven’t heard


anything because my boy is dead.

There’s always some fool trolling

for blood with courage attached

to a trigger and always somebody

to mourn. Why do You let it

be this way? You know I


tried with my boy, tried to

beat the street off him, let

him feel the whip of my

tongue. You haven’t been paying

attention. He tried to get a job,

but he got tired of being


clerked and smirked to death or

welcomed with token arms by

folks that like to mum you out

of the store. Knowing You, he

will see white at the end

of that tunnel to Your heaven.


He wasn’t begging out on that

corner with his saxophone. Didn’t

Your Son have a soft spot for

beggars? I craved rainy days and

snowstorms when he’d have to

come home, but he never did


until the day You allowed a

15-year-old boy to kill him for

some silver. What’d my son die for,

Lord Jesus? He was just a

musician, and it isn’t right for

anybody to die for a song.

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    • Angela Blair profile image

      Angela Blair 4 years ago from Central Texas

      Exceptional and touching work -- you write beautifully. This piece touched my heart. Best/Sis

    • multiculturalsoul profile image
      Author

      JJ Murray 4 years ago from Roanoke, Virginia

      Thank you. As a high school teacher for 28 years, I have known too many mothers who have had to mourn their children.

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