I lit the piece of paper,
Listing the wrongs, on fire.
It burned ashen in a few seconds time,
Without witnesses to the petty crimes.
Somehow, I’d recorded them in my mind
And replayed them like a turn style,
Spinning bad lyrics on a scratched 45.
I did it often without knowing why.
After all, He set my record ablaze
When he first forgave.
So I’ve loved again in earnest,
Setting out to do my durndest.