For the Guilty

I write this for the guilty

For those whose pockets

Are too rocky with dirt

Whose hands are weathered

Whose hearts are calloused 

I wish I could sing to you

Slip into the tender side

Of your nature

Like the Man in Black

I wish there were more songs

For you

I can not pretend to understand

You-- the how & why of you

And sometimes

I hate you

But more & more

I realize

That what makes

Somebody one of you

Changes

And how much

You deserve

Depends

On 

Cruel, stupid things

And if I were to measure myself

Honestly

When I measure myself honestly

I am guilty, too