Charcoal

My head is full of charcoal

Sticky, chalky, stained

Discoloring and endless

It writhes and it pours

Out of the mouth in my skull

So scrub on your knees

My white rug is spotted

Blackness it bleeds

Yet if I’d scrub with water

The living water of Him

I find it actually lifts

And disappears onto

The chafing rag of His mercy

That doesn’t strike me where I stand

The interesting thing about charcoal

Is things come away whiter

Teeth, skin, carpet

Are fresher, snowy

Who would have thought that endless bl...