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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=468601" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Plea</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=468601" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">How shall he begin to say this? <br>His pride scares him off<br>As a mighty man it stands before him, he’s so afraid<br>He knows, he needs not be squeamish<br>Neither needs he be grumpy<br>For perhaps his friendship was just smarminess in sunshine<br>He’s ashamed and cannot stare in the eyes of the angel<br>Each smile reveals his weakness; <br>Her laughter, his latent pain<br>How shall he begin to say “I’m sorry? ”<br>She’s vivacious, intelligent, dutiful and attractive<br>But what is he...<br>Nasty, irresponsible, carefree, kiddy and yielding<br>How could he…let her in whom he found joy down? <br>How could he, paid back good with evil? <br>He is sorry! <br>Do not leave him here, in oblivion and in obsession<br>Forgive him and let the soul within him be healed! <br>…as we forgive those who trespass against us… Luke 11: 4.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Nicholas+Boateng">Nicholas Boateng</a></strong></div>