Bring Her Home

I can’t believe my daughter’s words.
She says to wants to be set free
from loathing self, from evil lies
that whisper cross-sex hormone dreams.
 
Perhaps God made her as she is.
The veil is lifting from her eyes.
She’ll find her true identity.
Her laughter, once again, will shine.
 
I’m overwhelmed. Our world’s gone mad.
Please shield my baby from all harm,
from grooming “friends” and surgeries.
Return her safe to waiting arms.
 
We’ve prayed rejection won’t prevail.
May her full mirror cease to be
a stumbling block of vanity,
of pride in passing for a “he.”
 
May she renounce this wretched crutch
and give her angry fists a rest.
May kindness from on high break through
and quell rebellion’s vipers’ nest.
 
End the cult-like indoctrination
that’s tainted portions of her soul,
the tears and cares that haunt her nights.
Lord, bring her home and make her whole.

For more on this author.