He whipped his soul
His entire life
For what was not his fault
And now the scars
of all the wounds
We’re there for all to see.
I saw the boy
I saw the whip
I saw through all the pain
I told the man
He was the boy
And he was not to blame.
The man’s tears fell,
He dropped the whip,
And hugged the little boy.
His burdens fell,
His wounds were healed,
And now he tasted joy.
Zakaria Amara 