Thursday, 10 July 2008



Beaten and broken into pieces.
We lay like lovers do.
Ecstatically drained,
Eternally blue.

Repent now at leisure,
Reassembled in haste
Various woods, pieces of waste,

We were found cut, already shaped,
marked and scarred,
Wanting in taste.


Lost in the waste box
Down in the dumps
Lie around broken
Bruises and lumps

Hopeless and helpless
lost in space
one of us a foot
Another was a face

We are survivors
We are the new
You are the many
We are the few

Put us together
Unite us in fun
I am a robot
He is a gun

Refuged and refreshed,
Reformed and reshaped,
Recently enmeshed,
Lately escaped

We are survivors
No longer lost,
Paying the price,
Bearing the cost.

We are survivors,
No longer depraved
Show us forgiveness
We are the saved.


Our maker
(saviour would be wrong, a little strong)
(don’t you think?)
Creates us,
Not in his image, but in his imagination.
He sees us, not for what we are, but for
What we could be.
He facilitates our rebirth, engineers our resurrection
He makes us, he saves us.
He loves us.

He paints us, identifies us.
We are survivors.
We are light of heart, contemplative, reminiscent
We are not lonely,
We are grateful.

c. charles stuart 2008

No comments:

Post a Comment