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Rated: E · Poetry · Cultural · #1803882
This is my latest poem, it took 20 years and 15 minutes to write.
Cast the First Stone

It took days and weeks
To gather courage
To set aside her fear
To finally be willing to put everything she had
On the line
Finally she had decided
To do the one thing she needed most
She went to her pastor
To ask for help

He met her in his office
Sat behind his desk
And listened
Listened as she told him
How her father would come home from work
Often late
More than often
Drunk
How he would yell
And yes, at times scream at them
And from there
How it most often
Got worse

He rose from his chair
Walked over to a bookshelf along the wall
And removed a copy of the Bible
Which he opened on the desk in front of her
He showed her scriptures
The man was the head of the household
He was the ruler of his domain
It was his duty and his right
To punish his children
For these were the words of God
Later
This man
This servant to the Lord
Did the one thing
That from me and her
He will never gain forgiveness
He told her father what had happened
Over and over again
She paid for his sin
And with every strike
Even the Angels in Heaven
Cried

Years passed
She had grown up
Gotten married and had children
Moved away and separated herself
As many ways as she could from her father
And the Church

Another day came
There was a new couple in the neighborhood
Her and her husband had wanted to make new friends
She fought only a little
When they asked if they would join them
One Sunday morning
To visit their Church
She wanted to make her husband happy
She wanted to feel like she could belong
Belong to a group of people
Maybe gain more friends
She set aside her pain
Her fear
And together
They went

The music was beautiful
The choir sang with such devotion
People not only sat in their pews
But they reached out to strangers
Letting them know that they were glad
That they were there
Then the sermon came

A man
Dressed in a fine suit
With great dedication
Walked up
And stood behind his pulpit
He presented his Bible for all to see
Opened it
Placed it on the stand in front of him
And began to preach

He spoke of how a woman should be plain
She should be leery
On how she dressed herself
How she should refrain
From using makeup
Or perfume
How she should cover herself
Never expose her legs or cleavage
And in most cases
It was a woman’s fault
When she was raped

These words tore at her
Ripped their way through her heart
To her very soul
She remembered the words of a close friend
How she told her how she had been beaten
Raped in her own home
In front of her daughter
There was no escaping this
But this time
She was not alone
Her husband reached over
Took her hand
And together
In tears they left
No
For them
It didn’t matter that the sermon was not over
What mattered most
Is that they left
Before someone was forced to pay

I hope you understand
These are not mere words on paper
This is not a tale of fantasy
About a make-believe woman
These words
Are about one
Whom I would gladly lay down everything for
Even my life
This woman
Who suffered so badly at the hands of others
Is the second beat of my very heart
Her name is Letha
She is my wife

Letha is a Wiccan
Many people would stand in judgment
Condemn her
And me
For her choice in religion
But I hope after they read these words
After they walk just a few steps
Along the path of life she has traveled
They might learn to understand
And not be so quick
To cast stones

Yes
I am a Catholic
And my wife is a Wiccan
And deep down in my heart
I know
That even God understands
Why

Ed Roberts 8/6/11


Each night I pray for forgiveness
Not only for my sins
But for those of others as well










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