As much as I would like to provide some context for understanding the this poem, I will refrain from doing so for now. After my first book is published (hopefully later this year), I plan on writing a memoir of faith that will be drawn from my personal spiritual journey. If you care enough to know what these words represent, you'll find more explanation there.
That's how long I gave to you.
I never asked for anything in return either,
though perhaps I should have.
And what did you give me?
Disappointed hopes and unfulfilled dreams.
Maybe I shouldn't blame you;
they were my choices, after all.
And to be fair, there were other things, too.
But I don't know.
It's just that after all this time and everything we've been through,
it would be nice to know you cared.
It doesn't feel that way, though.
Do you even see me standing here with one foot out the door?
I mean, I get it,
I never really was the life of your party.
But still, I thought I at least meant something.
Twenty years is a long time, you know.
I didn't expect it to go this way.
But here we are. Here I am.
What was it your Reformer said? Oh yes, I remember.
I will borrow his words for my parting farewell.
"To go against conscience is neither right nor safe.
And that is that.
I remember you --
the boy I used to be.
So headstrong and certain,
Ready to give it all up for your righteous cause.
You never thought your dreams would end the way they did.
You didn't see the pain that was coming for you on the horizon.
You had no clue it would all fall apart, did you?
No inkling that your own mind would change.
Yet how could you? After all, you were just a boy.
Anyway, at least there's this.
You may have failed to solve your problems,
but you did outgrow them.
That's something, I guess.
Yes, I remember you, the boy I used to be.
I think of you often and fondly.
Yet I wonder -- had you known,
would you have done it any differently?