Stay the Whip
(for all of my children)
My great, great, great grampa one day,
whipped a field hand, who'd tried to run,
He explained to my great great,
You too must do these things my son.
You have to show em whos the boss,
And humble them with fear,
Learn to control them boys you know,
If you want to keep them here.
Great great, choked back a little ones tear,
so his poppa couldnt see,
And he quietly asked himself,
"Is that why, you take your hand to me?"
Great great slapped his son, my great,
For looking at him wrong,
"Youve got to look at me just right,
Take your licks and grow up strong."
But when GG slapped G you see,
he didnt understand,
He not only struck his son that day,
My grandson felt his hand.
Wholl grab the hand and stop the man,
whose heart is breaking thus?
Wholl be the one to raise the flag,
The one to shout ENOUGH?
"Too late" you say, for me "to stay,
The falling rod of pain?
Too late to clear dark clouds away,
And stop the salty rain?"
"Can halfway through a deed so drear,
A difference now be made?
To calm the tears of all the years,
Bind wounds now open laid?"
I cry out against the raging years,
Of beaten boys and girls!
Mend broken hearts, hug them,
Caress their little curls.
Come dad, will we now show our sons?
Will you come now, walk with me?
Spread word but start with number one,
Watch one and one make three!
I dared one day, to start the change,
At my place in the world,
And deep within my soul,
God breathed, a flag of peace unfurled.
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