Broken Place

This place is broken now,
It don’t take much to disregard,
The strains of pain that used to mark,
A rise to justice in our hearts,

We press the thorn into your brow,
With every word, with every sound,
That bleeds from deep inside,
But never breaks the great divide

We loath that we offend,
But loath the truth we never tend,
Trading the wheat for the chaff,
And the rod for the staff,

In a world that can’t condone,
The lonely and alone,
Why do we leave them cold,
With mere words and soothing tones,

Until the angst is open wide,
Self control just can’t abide,
And still we shake our fists,
Looking to others for the fix,

“Oh my God!”,
How can We say those words,
And still outsource the work,
Display a love absurd,

While babies run and hide,
In weeks we never mind,
Another stone will soon to pass,
Another stone to break the glass,

To violate our hearts,
Until calloused in every part,
And hope has all run out,
While gray runs all about,

We grasp at emptiness,
Looking for substance in the midst,
And cry hard at the empty hand,
That reaches out from the hearts of man,

And we scream My God again,
As if he is left to blame,
This is who we have become,
Our selfishness has overcome,

Protesting all and one,
For all things under the sun,
Trying to strike a nerve,
But it’s only us we serve,

Should we wonder how,
This place is broken now?