sin
SIN
From the depths of the sea,
From the base of the bin,
From the heels within me,
Come the stems of my sin.
In the thoughts that I think,
In the words that I say,
In the juice that I drink,
Creeps the sin of my way.
The sin shows in envy.
The sin shows in hate.
The sin shows jealously,
That my soul’s not first rate.
If I try to improve,
If I try to leave sin,
I’ll be back in the grove,
And with God once again.
©Lynnette Schuepbach, 1967