BiggRich Shuping


Sins Of Our Fathers


It's a seed planted
By the history of our forefathers
That is in you and I my brothers
Yes! You too my sisters
Are plaqued by the same seed
The same seed that assumed
A place of comfort
In the garden of my father's father's father,
Further and farther from root level
It found its way through the bark to us the branches
And now as we grow leaves
And new buds from us emerge
The seed find its way to our children and so I pray,
Let us children be not held accountable
For the sins of our fathers

We suffer from self doubt and self inadequacy
We ask ourselves the same question
That others before us asked
Who am I to make it,
When in my family no one did?
The question is in you
The question is in me
Yes! You can trace it back to the seed
The same seed that history
Planted in our forefather's garden
To us poverty is congenital
And mediocrity congenial
But how can I believe in myself
When even my father doubt me?
I guess it all begins with me
As a man thinketh, so is he
So hear me father I pray
Let us children be not held accountable
For the sins of our fathers

Submitted: Saturday, July 28, 2012

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