Saturday, May 14, 2011

BROKEN

My ears do not work.
They are BROKEN.
My eyes do not work.
They are BROKEN.
My legs do not work.
They are BROKEN.
My mind does not work.
It is BROKEN.
My muscles do not work.
They are BROKEN.
So I watch the people,
Who think I don't notice when they mock me
As my muscles cause my arms to flail
And the ones who ooze phoney sympathy from their
every pore
And laugh at you after their work-day is done
And the doctors who are so sure
That your BROKEN mind is the only thing that is
Ever wrong,
The body is never BROKEN as long as you have a
BROKEN mind.
And at the end of your BROKEN life
All those who tried in vain to fix your BROKEN-NESS
To make you like them, to fit into their world-veiw,
Will all proclaim We trie to fix her but she refused to see she was BROKEN and therefore we could not fix her at all.
People throw BROKEN things away.
God takes them from the garbage and uses them anyway
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2 comments:

drmkensington said...

What a beautiful poem that moves elegantly from sadness to joy in God's understanding. I will copy this and email it around - it will bring heart to many of our members.

Thanks for that
Prof. Browne
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dogsrbest said...

Thanks Prof.Browne. I like to write, well really I write cuz I have to
Most of my poems here were written a year ago or more.