With the sting of his slap, he said the opposite of all he truly felt.
(God said, “Please, don’t break my daughter so.)
With her quick forgiveness, she said she loved him even at his worst.
(God said, “Please, set boundaries, my love.)
With the high of his anger, he said her love would never be enough.
(God said, “My son, don’t let your past hurt her so.”)
With her ache to please him, she said everything wrong was okay.
(God said, “Do you see the sickening resemblance of your parents, my love?”)
With the morning light, he said his tortured apologies,
And with his love in her eyes, she voiced the forgiveness already in her heart.
(God said, “This is your chance to break the cycle, my children.”)
But God’s voice remained a faint whisper, for they lay caught up,
In everything they’d ever known, forever trapped in this unbroken cycle.
© 2010 Dana Renee’ Billingsley
Written for an online challenge to write a poem with opposing viewpoints, including the words ‘She said’ and ‘He said’ at least once.