Born to a non ****** Mother
A Father just wasn’t present
So no one to give me up
For the forgiveness of you
There was no manger
Just a backseat of a car
Nor any wise men
Just really abusive ones
But none of this means
I still can’t be a son of God

I was never nailed to a cross
Just physically hit a lot
Nor did I ever help the blind see
But I do try to create awareness
I’m not always willing to forgive
Everyone who wrongs me
But with time I do try hard
To make things right with them
But none of this means
I still can’t be a son of God

Amidst a life of exposed lies
The truth lay hid beneath
I prayed to be forever healed
Confused about having faith
The answers I tried to seek
Seemed like a hopeless wish
As my words fell on deaf ears
Or so I thought back then
But none of this means
I still can’t be a son of God

An Angel disguised as a lover
Captured my soul and demons
Teachings of love and values
Built with efforts of compassion
A connection like never before
I felt safe and secure with her
My first time experiencing that
But a pandemic hit our love
But none of this means
I still can’t be a son of God

Creating a void between us
My angel decided to move on
I laid weak, hurt and insecure
With no one at all to turn to
All alone drowning in my sorrow
Feeling like I had no one at all
To turn to or to lean on anymore
Fears of myself becoming toxic
But none of this means
I still can’t be a son of God

Our Heavenly Father
Has no prejudice nor type
For his blood was given
For that of our forgiveness
With no pre qualifications
For all, his hand will reach
If they seek for him to claim
All it requires is love and faith
Regardless your faults or sin
Your invited , He who takes all,

Your Heavenly Father

https://m.soundcloud.com/robert-grove-821180401/he-who-takes-all-mp3

I laid down my rifle
a long time ago.
No more shouting from trenches,
no more pride in the mud.

I surrendered.

But she didn’t.

She’s still bunkered up,
hiding behind sarcasm and silence,
armed with old pain
and the ghosts of nights I didn’t cause.

So I get hit.
Over and over.
Sharp words. Cold stares.
Misfired memories that land on my chest
like shrapnel.

But I’m not backing off.

I’m crawling through barbed wire made of what-ifs
and landmines labeled “don’t go there.”

And I’m close now.
Close enough to smell the old perfume
beneath the wine and wilted willpower.

Close enough
to throw in a grenade —
not of anger,
but of love.

Pull the pin.
Say the words.
Let it explode in light
instead of fire.

Let it end this war
with something softer
than surrender.

My mom and I don't get along
She loves me sometimes
Other times like I've committed multiple crimes
We never raise hands
our likeminded heads are already wrapped in metal bands
When will we hold hands and forgive?
If I can't move on from this, I fear I'll never live
Lord knows how hard I try and
How much I give into my pride
How little my mom listens yet how wonderfully eccentric and kind
The stories of her as a child never fail to make me wonder
They remind me so much of myself that my blood starts to boil
I'm not like her
Erratic
Childish or
Hopeful...
How can I ask for a life better than the one I'm living
The whole thing just seems so immoral
I want to run away
I always thought I would like it better that way,
But a seed growing in my heart says
A future without you is no future I want to ever hold at bay.

she calls me by my name,
and i answer without words—
only an offering:
a silent prayer,
bare skin,
a breath held,
a promise kept sacred,
to worship her.

she calls,
and i answer with stillness.
like dusk slipping
into the night—
utterly, completely—
pulling me apart
under the tears
of moonlight.

she calls
even as i soak
in her waves,
as they kiss my collarbone,
make heaven blush
when i fall to my knees,
laced around her soul.

her intention to claim me
was there from the start.
written in her whispers
******* my thoughts.
she never asked
what broke me.
only reached with rippled hands
to take my weight,
press it into the riverbed
like something malevolent,
already forgiven.

[  ] I can never forgive myself for forgiving you

[  ] All those chances
[  ] All those days
[  ] And yet still you have always behaved the same

[  ] "Forgive him, he's family" is what they would all say
[  ] And I did
[  ] Every. Single. Time.

[  ] You were supposed to be the grown-up
[  ] but somehow, I always ended up being the one who acted grown
[  ] I was just a kid
[  ] And I was the one holding us together.
[  ] It was me bringing calm to your chaos,
[  ] Nursing you when you were sick
[  ] Keeping myself entertained
[  ] Playing with ******* to keep myself from feeling lonely
[  ] Cause you never bothered to grow up and show up
[  ] And even when you did, I still felt alone

[  ] And every time you got it together
[  ] you’d be better for a while.
[  ] You’d laugh again
[  ] act like things were normal
[  ] And make me think you were finally here to stay
[  ] So I’d let my guard fall just enough to believe it.

[  ] Then you'd disappear.
[  ] Or snap
[  ] leaving me again.
[  ] Always blaming myself, always thinking it was my fault
[  ] Also thinking that you didn’t love me anymore
[  ] Leaving me a mess.

[  ] And there I was again
[  ] In a never-ending cycle
[  ] a kid who was forced to grow up fast,
[  ] spinning lies to make you sound okay,
[  ] telling myself maybe next time would be different
[  ] Telling myself and everyone else "he's different this time"
[  ] But you were always the same

[  ] But now I'm grown up
[  ] And I'm tired of giving you chances
[  ] Of giving you my undying love and trust

[  ] Every now and the it replays
[  ] The sentence that got said so often it's written in my vains
[  ] "But hes your dad"
[  ] But I'm his daughter
[  ] But to everyone else that didn't matter
[  ] Because I should have been greatful that at least he was still "around"


[  ] We grew up together, really
[  ] you were practically a child too.
[  ] But with age, I matured.
[  ] You didn’t.
[  ] Even though I know you wanted to.

[  ] So I've finally decided I'm sick of making excuses for you
[  ] I've moved on
[  ] My patience has been used
[  ] But i understand it more now, however i dont accept it as an excuse
[  ] So for now, I made peace with who you are and what you do

[  ] You only get one dad, and I suppose I do love you
[  ] But I'm sick of forgiving you
[  ] Even though this time maybe it stuck

[  ] You have gotten better.
[  ] And I see that you try.
[  ] I know that you feel guilty.
[  ] But how do I know you mean it this time?

[  ] My one wish with all of this
[  ] Is that one day you will finally forgive yourself
[  ] And make peace with the fact that you ****** up.

[  ] Mistakes can fade,
[  ] but they don’t always disappear.

[  ] Like a scratch in polished wood,
[  ] you can sand it, seal it, varnish it with love
[  ] but the grain never forgets.

[  ] And neither does the little girl inside me.
[  ] She’s still there
[  ] stuck in time,
[  ] hoping you’d finally get your act together,
[  ] hoping you’d finally be her dad.

[  ] I’ve grown. I’ve healed. I’ve moved forward.

[  ] But she’s still waiting for the day
[  ] you become the man
[  ] she always believed you could be

Now the cuts
have faded to pale seams,
from the girl
who left her key on the counter,
and took the why with her,
and the friend
you hadn’t seen in years
but still called brother,
his last paintings
hanging quiet on walls
in rooms no longer yours.

like the ghost of an old song,
still in key
you rise again
fingernails dark with soil,
burying sunflower seeds
in morning’s cold fog.

The dog needs feeding.
There’s toast to burn,
and leaves to steep.
You carry your small life
like a cracked bowl
that still holds water.

After years bent in ritual hunger,
knees pressed to rock,
tongue dry from vow,
nights lit like altars,
no revelation came.
No divine telegram.
No trumpet of truth,
just the kitchen humming
and the silence after the call.

Only the widow neighbor,
waving through fogged glass.
Only the pipes in the wall
clunking like an old lung.
Only the light
barging in
without your consent.

You believe in coats
with missing buttons,
safety pins where zippers gave,
old threads that never matched
but held anyway.
You forgive the past
not because it asked
but because you need the room.

It builds in your bones
like wind in an empty house,
constant, uninvited,
and full of old names.
Like a tune half-remembered,
only the hum
remains.