Parents

As I think about my parents,
I feel quite ashamed.

Remembering how they carried me,
Never offering blame.

How they bleed for me,
Not knowing,
If I would come through.

Rewarding them with theft and lies,
It must have made them blue.

To see now with clearer eyes,
They knew the better way.

And lived to see their fruits,
Before their dying days.

To think about it now their gone,
Brings back the pain.

And in His love I am reminded,
Of His never ending flame.