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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I've forgiven people who never apologized. Forgiven lies. Forgiven betrayals. Forgiven promises that died before they ever reached the ground. But every time I try to forgive myself, the prosecution asks for another witness. Another exhibit. Another piece of evidence. Another version of me I no longer recognize, yet still somehow stand accused of being. This sentence should have ended years ago, But I keep extending my own appeal. Every time Mercy signs the paperwork, Regret files another motion. God dismissed the charges, But I kept the courthouse open. I say I trust His judgment, yet question every case He closed. Keep searching through dismissed complaints, for charges He no longer keeps. I preach redemption to the broken. Tell them Mercy still remains. Tell them God can heal a life, buried beneath decades of stains. Yet somehow, when the mirror speaks, the message changes when it's mine. I offer grace to everyone else, then place myself outside the line. For years, I called it accountability. I thought that sounded strong and wise. Never noticed self-condemnation had simply changed its name in disguise. I wasn't carrying a burden. I was questioning Heaven's decree. Acting like the Judge was mistaken when the accused happened to be me. The prison door stood open years ago. I was the one who stayed inside. Holding conversations with my Guilt while Mercy waited just outside. A memory may be a witness, But it doesn't make the law. The Judge had spoken long before I finally accepted what He saw. God dismissed the charges. I was the one who would not surrender. The verdict was already rendered. I was the last one to remember.
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