I hope in everything,
And everyone there is the tiniest,
A little bit,
Of decency or honesty or something we can get
The least bit of inspiration from to indeed carry on,
Eliminate justifies the ugliness of hate
May Jesus not have said:
“Better he’d not been born,
“And even the lowliest paedophile not receive our complete scorn,
That there would be just something to justify the race,
Of hated, despised people from whom we turn our face.
From those whom we would choose to erase,
Erase from all our view,
Like Hitler or Rasputin, that they also,
Some good or gesture long forgotten, to justify their being,
Present in This Sorrow, so that we would,
Yes, be seeing.
Something that would let us know some bit of good they did,
Although we line them up and finally that we’ll rid
Ourselves of all the horror we proclaim,
And, as we spit, Upon their vile visages and watch them burning in The Pit.
Yet hear them say, “I’m sorry,” and remember they too tried,
To justify one bit of fibre, as they killed and raped and lied.
So, to this tiniest factor,
I pledge faith,
Even if we can’t forgive the wrong,
Of a thousand proofs of evil,
A thousand lifetimes last too long.