Vengeance Is Mine
The day it happened I was young.
Not yet old enough to use a gun.
They came riding onto our ranch.
We weren’t ready. We had no chance.
Mama told me “Hide in the woodbox.”
I jumped in quick as a scared fox.
Mama barely closed the lid
before they saw where I was hid.
They drew guns & demanded money.
Papa said we had no money.
They looked over and shot him dead.
The bullet hit him in the head.
I peeked out from within the box.
The man was tall with golden locks.
He had a scar running down his face.
He threw my mama around the place.
He said “The money or your dead too.”
Mama said “I have no money for you.”
The man shot her in the face.
Then he & his men wrecked the place.
They found liquor and started to drink.
One took a leak right in the sink.
They laughed and cursed and finally left.
Took all they wanted in the theft.
I came out of my hiding place.
I cried when I saw my mama’s face.
I vowed vengeance, then I cried.
“Each one of them will have to die.”
I started practicing day and night.
Shooting a gun till I got it right.
I had sold the ranch to get the cash.
Bought ammo & trained till I got fast.
I fired standing up and sitting down.
I fired running and from the ground.
I fired riding and over a wall.
I practiced till no one could beat my draw.
I practiced for many years.
Day and night between my tears.
So fast people could hardly see my draw.
I hit any target, no matter how small.
Finally the day came about
When I heard the killers were about.
After a month I picked up their trail.
“It won’t be long” I began to wail.
They were in a deserted rundown church.
Their horses were tied to an old birch.
After releasing their horses I snuck closer.
I checked that my gun was loose in the holster.
They were playing cards on the podium
at a table where the Bible should have been.
They were drinking, cussing, & carrying on.
Behavior of which they seemed real fond.
I crawled up between the pews.
Soon to give them deadly news.
I drew my gun.— Was this a sin?
Then I heard my mama’s voice again.
‘Treat others as you’d want them to treat you.’
‘It is wrong to kill though they be a fool.’
Suddenly, as the tears came down,
I tossed my gun up front on the ground.
The bandits jumped up and drew their guns.
They saw me and knew I was the one.
The one who had followed them for weeks.
They would finish me for keeps.
As they started to blow me away,
the ceiling fell in crushing their play.
I stood up and thanked the Lord above.
I asked for forgiveness & was given love.
Today he is the pastor of that very church.
It was rebuilt by townsfolk who knew his worth.
He is popular with his sermons.
Especially when he tells what turned him.
His mama’s voice, (or was it God’s voice.)
That made him make a different choice.
Made him what he is today.
God’s servant in every way———————R. W. Johnson—-(2011)