Cupboard Memories -- poem by kate and beth

this was our poem for our conference presentation!

Remember me?
I was Rwanda
These days are like my cupboard memories

Chained to being who I am
Lying to make sure I survive
Differences between us faded
Known only by a stamp on a card
Tell me why I am

Anger controlled no longer
Stains wash over all around
We kept ourselves to trust
Fighting to stop the tears
I am helpless and powerless
Defenseless, nowhere to go

Taste these dry, fluorescent ashes
Ashes, remaining undetected
Dead and not returning
To the bloody plight

Describe to me a horizon
While I sit here, sitting dark
Does it still reflect this insanity
This country's damsels lay
Among my broken doors, these broken bones
Reflect the stillness of my neighbors

Confronting this absence
Of hope and heart
How do I piece my life back together
How do I learn to forgive
When the hatred still remains

Can I erase these marks
Can I go on in life
Wandering in this non-responsive world
The silence tells me
There's nothing left to say

These are my scarred,
Cupboard memories

Tears of the Saints - by Leeland

There are many prodigal sons
On our city streets they run
Searching for shelter
There are homes broken down
People's hopes have fallen to the ground
From failures

This is an emergency!

There are tears from the saints
For the lost and unsaved
We're crying for them come back home
We're crying for them come back home
And all your children will stretch out their hands
And pick up the crippled man
Father, we will lead them home
Father, we will lead them home

There are schools full of hatred
Even churches have forsaken
Love and mercy
May we see this generation
In its state of desperation
For your glory

This is an emergency!

Sinner, reach out your hands
Children in Christ you stand

And all your children will stretch out their hands
And pick up the crippled man
Father we will lead them home
Father we will lead them home