As I step on porcelain,
So white and so pure,
Where my foot has touched
Are gray marks I abhor.

As I turn the faucet,
Under pristine light,
Footprints are erased
From my sinner’s sight.

On the Bathtub’s heart
Gray slides down the drain,
Though the gray will stay
Always in my brain.

In my eye my foot
Is ever to be dirt.
Committed sin has
Inflicted those hurt.

In Bathtub’s memory,
Footprints will be forgot.
The image in my mind
Oh, will always be got.

Merciful Bathtub
Has a porcelain soul.
Mine is like a sponge,
That never lets go.

Merciful flow comes
From His showerhead.
Dirt permanent on
My soul that won’t shed.

And as I step out
Of the cleansing tub,
Still oh so shameful
To look at Him above,

Feet on the dry rug,
I look and abhor
For I see footprints-
Haunting me once more.