My Pain

If you are silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.

– Zora Neale Hurston

If an enemy were insulting me, I could endure it; if a foe were rising against me, I could hide. But it is you, a man like myself, my companion, my close friend, with whom I once enjoyed sweet fellowship at the house of God, as we walked about among the worshipers.  Psalm 55: 12-14

You heard my people reviled and you said nothing.

You saw my brother killed and you did not lift your voice.

You winked at the author of my persecution.

I protested the hate-sword in my back you said “stop complaining.”

You trampled my bleeding body to shake hands with my oppressor,

Giving the nod to my terrorism.

You had a party during his victory over me, dancing on my broken bones.

I wept at your betrayal. You looked away and continued your jig.

“Take away my shame; make me feel better,” you say.

“Let’s forget this and sing unity songs.”

But my parts are scattered and there are ashes in my mouth.

They have a familiar taste.      -CEW

Alexander the metalworker did me a great deal of harm. The Lord will repay him for what he has done…

At first defense, no one came to my support, but everyone deserted me. May it not be held against them.  2 Timothy 4:14, 16