maybe I don't understand
the things that are at hand
but what is your goal?
your personality's as black as coal
I felt it in my gut
that this whole thing was going to rot
you left me standing there
in a place I couldn't bear
but who am I to judge
we're not in a court of justice
I don't have a gavel to declare you guilty
to prove to others such false humility
maybe God is just testing my patience
making me remember all of His faithfulness
my sufferings are yet to end
but my scars remained for God to mend
Another poem, another feeling. Oh how I love letting these things out.