A poem by my bestfriend Kaitlynn

The choice between grace and unjust lies between man and heart.
There is no fault in a sin, it is offered and so to the appeal we will take.
No choice is ever marked by man.
Man is marked by choice because society depicts the slow moving pattern we will follow.
Faith and hope, now replaced by technology and uncertain promises.
Love, replaced by lust and sexuality.
To be proud, now means to be ashamed.
To live in fear, to walk secretly ashamed.
Now conquering all we build character upon.
When did the choice we make becomes who we are.
What we are.
A choice, sin or not is still only a choice.
You are an earth child of god.
The light, the innocence revived at birth is yours and forever will be.
There is wrong for one, and right for another.
It’s the hate.
The shared national hate and fear that brings one to that path.
Someone did not care. No one listened long enough to see the pain.
To feel the pain.
Actions carry no emotion, words do.
Speak.
Give yourself a voice. Give someone else a voice.
Better yet. Give love a voice.
If we can create so much hate,
why can we not make more forgiveness?
Something like an understanding. Something like a reach.
A reach like a prayer to god,
a reach like child to mother.
A reach to fix the broken faith.
The hate becomes the love for rainy days,
because like the rain we shed out tears and lighten up.
We will feel the sun, because we were given the sun.
In reality the choice between good and bad is no choice at all.
To inflict pain and hate is a creation that can be destroyed.
Carry compassion for the feel. Carry fear through love by giving others strength.
Carry strength like Jesus carried and took our sins.
And with those sins gone, let hope, love, faith and compassion fill the void.
Just reach like you were saving himself from a fall.
No a stretch like you do when you take, a reach like when you reach for a lovers hand.
A reach like you do when you need the faith.
Change is not inevitable, change is made.
Hate is felt, lies are felt but change..
Change is made to paint a new picture.
To paint light over dark, to paint what is needed to be seen.
The corrupt shall fall, and the given grace will rise.