Dread in my spirit
of the state of this world—
why is everything sexual?

Poetry paints such pictures
why can’t we focus
on that which is
lovely
not
explicit
innocent
not
tainted
true
not
man’s opinion
noble
not
coarse
upright
not
in
the
gutter

Get your mind
out
of the gutter.

What more beautiful
what higher
what more lovely
than the very
depths
of the heart of One

Deity clothed in humanity
who stooped
to
the
gutter
to
restore innocence
to bring what is lovely
out of
ashes
to bring hope
to the
hopeless
to die for the
tainted
to redeem—
for He so loved
the world.

The voice of shed blood
calls
“there is hope”
to the vilest of sinners
from the noblest Person
to ever
share
the
gutter.

The cross hung
between two criminals, after all.

There
is
hope
for
the
gutter
don’t
forget.

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