Crippled faith

Thoughts I portrayed through writing. My thoughts on American government, war and how many American Christians carry out their faith.

Crippled faith

I went out with my friends one night to see the late showing of some film that I can’t recall,

As we were walking back to our car a man sat crippled on the cracked sidewalk,

He didn’t want my money but to talk, to talk of the life he once lived,

One that started out with high hopes, but was shattered and near its end.

My friends beckoned me to ignore the old man and get in the car,

I looked again at the man who had so much pain in his desolate eyes,

Turing back to my friends, I said goodbye, I will see you guys later.

Giving me weird looks they left.

 

Now I gave my attention to the man on the cold ground,

He smiled and said thank you for giving me your time, almost never no one does.

They haven’t listened to me since 1969, instead they sent me into hell to die.

But I haven’t cried once, not yet at least,

There isn’t anything to cry about because there isn’t none of me left.

Just this broken body that leaves me looking up at the demons, they taunt and torture me Every single damn moment they have their victory.

The Vietnamese weren’t my enemy, they had never done me any wrong,

But my own damn country robbed me of my life and sent me to fight their political massacre of the Vietcong.

In my second year of collage I had a girl that I was found of,

We went out dancing and watched the stars until sun came up and took away our cheep motion picture,

And just like the sun, the United States of America, the land of the free, took me from my girl and to a battlefield poisoned with slavery of its own beloved citizens,

But if you couldn’t tell, It didn’t end there, my legs were taken by the sick twisted warfare.

Night after night we crawled through that jungle hoping that each movement wouldn’t be our last,

My buddy Johnny was the first to go, he had signed up for this patriotic duty to his blessed America,

Always saying, this land, America, was made for you and me, if we don’t stop them here, they’ll come for our families.

I always said, Johnny, I don’t have no one no more, my family left me to die when I was thirteen, and my girl left me somewhere in between.

You see I had nothing to fight for except my own life, and physically that’s all I have left.

But Johnny never fought for that and that’s what he lost, all he got from that war was his own death.

I tried to survive for the sake tomorrow,

My faith was that I could leave this hell and move on to some place other,

But when I returned I went from one hell to the next,

With a purple heart in my left hand and food stamps in my right,

I would spend night after night on any street corner that would let me call it home,

Hoping that some one would come along, heal my damn broken body and my shattered bones.

Some of you young guys tell me to look on the brighter side, they tell me I have breath in my lungs and a heart beat.

I tell them, you can walk a*****e, and they move along.

Sometimes you people walk by and hand me those little booklets that talk of Jesus flipping Christ, the one who heals the sick and saves,

I read that booklet, every damn page.

I was quite fond of the parts all over that spoke of cripples being healed in the name of this Christ,

Like Peter and John outside the great temple gate,

A begging cripple like my self who was in need of what you could spare,

Asking for money, instead they gave him a new body,

One whole and worthy to withstand the forces of gravity,

But every one of you walks past me and leaves my being in this depraved state of reality.

 

I tried to speak up at this point, being a Christian myself, I tried to justify why no one had prayed for or healed this man,

Stopping myself mid sentence, realizing there was no excuse to what I and my fellow brothers had never done,

Speaking kingdom come, but never allowing my actions to leave my lips and truly become.

It was then after leaving the man that I realized my faith was as crippled as the mans legs,

All about me, me, me and what Jesus could do for me,

I forgot about every other soul,

My faith was weaker than this mans legs,

I cried.

God please forgive me for forsaking your beautiful creation.

Reviews

[Trigorin]

This is really not bad. Very relatable and topical, which is always a nice touch, and you've managed to convey your message very well. Nothing to criticize - very well done.