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Late at night is when I think
And try to I clear my head
I often stay awake all night
Just laying in my bed

As soon as I get comfy
Thoughts start racing in
I start to question everything
and regret my every sin

At first the thoughts are gentle
Like what will I do tomorrow
But as time crawls by; they escalate
Till I'm drowning in my sorrow

I think of all my failures
Every detail of what I did wrong
After hours of reliving pain
I convince myself I don't belong

I suddenly feel isolated
and like the silence will never end
I feel like I will never escape
There's too much I just can't mend

I feel overpowered and worthless
Like I'll never do anything right
I hide till the world fades away
And I'm awoken by the light

I realize a new day has come
It's time to put on a brave face
I put those negative thoughts away
Until I return to this place
We will tell you what to paint
What canvas portrays the truth
How many strokes your brush must take
From what colors you can choose

Whether oil or water color
Portrait or landscape
And if you try to paint with words
We'll tell you what to say

Set your easel up inside our garden
The one behind locked gates
Feel free to paint by numbers
They're much easier to erase

We don't want any problems
With the art in which you ink
Don't want those in the Worlds Gallery*
*
To have the slightest opportunity to think
The Art Critic is the Government
The Artist is the press
I never thought in my lifetime I would be afraid of America's Art Critic
If I should boast of anything
The Cross Of Christ my living King

With outstretched arms His love divine
Held out for me, forever thine

You took the sin of this wretched man
Upon yourself with nail scared hands

All that you ask is all that I am
A humble soul, a broken man
I've come to the point in my life
at what I thought would be a crossroad turns out to be a cliff.
Not one that I have to climb mind you
but one that I need to step off of.

...and yet I hesitate

I know that what awaits me over the edge
is the loving Father
and all the blessings and adventure I could ever imagine.

But could something also be waiting for me
beyond my imagination?
Could God ask something of me I'm not willing to give
or give up?

That's what frightens me.

I look behind me and see my comfortable life
with it's share of joy and heartaches and I do want more.

But do I want more of this

or more of

God

Will God ask me to move to Somalia or
just move off my couch.

I don't know what tomorrow might bring
but I do know that if God brings it...

It's all good!

and so here I am at the edge...

and...
            I...
                  step...
 Feb 2014 Hannah Bauer
Nathan Box
The serpent slithers on the garden floor.
Down comes the apple.
Fall of man.
Dwelling on the devil.

In the garden on bent knee.
Temptation of the king.
No pressure.
Dwelling on the devil.

In a darkened apartment high above the Emerald City.
Things change rapidly.
Sin is met with sin.
Dwelling on the devil.

Soldiers in a far off land.
**** and torment.
Innocence passes away.
Dwelling on the devil.

Fire down below.
Eternal damnation for all.
No real choice.
Dwelling on the devil.
Can you believe the betrayal we face,
Every day, from the people we trust most;
The people whom we confide in, trusting
That they will stand by us when we need them?
Then they turn away, leaving us alone,
Heartbroken and teary-eyed, beaten down
By the weight of the world left upon us.
Without our closest friends, we are nothing;
The world can trample us with but one step,
Pressing down hard, until we suffocate,
Without anyone to lift the burdens.
Still, we must continue living, wearing
A smile, so that those friends who betrayed us
Will believe we are stronger than we are.
It will defeat those people, and prove that
We can rise above disloyalty, and
  Live a better life without those who have
Broken our hearts into many pieces.
That strength is quite admirable, they say,
Though truly, we cry in the dark, alone,
So no one will hear how, really, we are
Weak and broken apart by broken trust.
 Feb 2014 Hannah Bauer
cassidy
they describe betrayal as
a knife in your back
so why does it feel like
it's going straight through
my heart?
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