“Tender”–Sharon Jacobs

Honorable Mention, Poetry

 

Be tender Abner; lay down your arms,

Can’t you see, tis your family it harms.

Homeless and hungry, no place to lay their heads,

Hated by many, Abner, tis you they dread.

These fires you burn produce but a minute of pleasure,

It’s your wife, your sons, your daughters that is your treasure.

Let go of the hate Abner, be filled with tenderness and love,

And be pleasing to those around you, most of all – He above.

Be tender Abner; lay down your arms,

No more fires, no more harm.