A Stranger Used To Live Here. Poem by Barack Austine

I saw a man living right in my space,
Rough and devoid of grace,
He was ready to quibble and murmur,
When not swimming in the pool of humor,
This man has invented another disability,
Of a step forward and three backward with agility,
This man knew how wrong others were,
While forgetting he too does err,
So he excused his self,
While skinning the neighbor's self,
For the same things he was likely to commit,
Yet, he, too, had no permit.

A man used to live here,
Who wanted to call dear,
A flawless dime piece,
So that he could be all at peace,
But I have chased this man,
No more room to him even as a mun,
So now it is not about the dime anymore,
But making self qualified to handle more,
It is not about acquiring the best,
I will be the best and pass the test,
So now, when I pray,
Like a mule, I don't just bray,
I thank God for all the great options he has laid in store,
Then ask him to make me a perfect gift when my seal they shall have tore,

A man used to live here,
Who God's voice didn't hear,
But depended on how he felt,
Even when His word legibly spelt,
Dimstified the yardstick of feeling,
So while his skin roughly peeling,
He asked for forgiveness of today, s trespass,
Which like other tests he failed to pass,
But God assured him of forgiveness,
And not due to forgetfulness,
Asked him, asked him a question,
"Son, which tests do you here station,
"I still mean it when I say I will forgive and forget."
The same justification you will today get.