Come Broken


Come broken,
sing the songs reserved
for the holy.
The diseased offer praise
when their wounds are scabbed over.

Come empty,
fill your stomach
on morsels,
crumbs given and thrown out,
blessed by the blood of the Son.

Come lonely,
your streets are filled
with those who seek.
Listen for the whispering prophets
in garbage laden alleys.

Come sinner,
do not condemn yourself
any longer.
The harlot has been made pure
and the thief witnesses paradise.




Copyright 2017 - Donald P James Jr

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