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Writing.
A shambolic
translation of the soul,
or so it seems. Perhaps it has
purpose.
What's life?
Awareness or
existence? Let's include
nonexistence. Why's a rock "dead"?
What's death?
Thinking
back a few years,
I see myself right now,
thinking about myself a few
years back.
I pray that you be woven Lord
Into the fabric of my life
That I might always speak of you
Continually both day and night

I pray that you be sewn
Into the hems of my mind
So that I may always see
And never to truth be blind

I pray that you reside
Within each crease and seam
So that you be always with me
That I may from your presence glean

I ask that within my heart lord
Your hand do its binding
So that there I might keep you lord
To be found your word always minding

I ask you do the darning
When I become weak and worn
May your hand gently repair
When my fabric lord is torn

I pray dear lord be the double stitch
That holds my life together
So that when at last this life I leave
I will live with you forever

Lord help me to allow your spirit
To own each fiber of thread
That is woven and sewn into my life
Till that day my body is dead

Take this piece of linen lord
Unworthy as it may be
Weave into it,sew into it and within every stitch
I pray your presence be

I ask that your skillful hands my Lord
Tenderly operate the loom
And as the cloth is made
I pray it is by you consumed
People are never just people
Have you ever sat in a circle
With a group of acquaintances
You've known a few days --
You met at a camp, or a club, or a journey --
And stayed up all night?
Truth or dare, no holds barred, no limits
Besides the basic decency of humanity?

Have you ever
Done so many things you're ashamed of
And so many things you're proud of
In one night
That you have no idea what you feel?
Fear, the pounding thrill of breaking rules,
The sweet rebellion of being different,
The intoxication of belonging?
But mostly,
The love -- the broken
Brothers and sisters in your circle
Going from middle-school dares
To their family's secrets,
Their darkest fears,
And most poignant dreams
The sweet kiss of hello
Tinged with the bitter poison of goodbye.

I learned something tonight.
I learned that the "****" is funny and smart,
That the "goth" is brave and strong,
That I am beautiful.
Apparently.
I learned that people are afraid of being known
But they are even more afraid
Of being alone
And sooner or later, we have to trust someone.

You learn so much
When you break the rules.
I am sad. The night is almost over,
And morning tastes of farewell
To all the soulmates
I've only just met
The ten of us
Teenagers, in a dark room
With only a flashlight,
Defying the power of dawn
Defying fear and pain and regret
By refusing to say goodbye.
Not yet.
We have three hours left.
One. One-half.
Ten minutes. Five.
We will never say goodbye.
I'm thinking about the person that you want me to be.
and I'm looking at you now thinking about your reputation.
you speak of hope when the people all remain voiceless.
you speak of love with all these people so broken.
These people are starving for love..
who are we to judge them?
How much longer can we ignore that these people have been robbed of their joy?
We are all searching for a leader to look up too.
something like a God to hang are hardships and pain on...
But they cant find a leader so they look to the media telling them its ***, drugs, and money that give you identity.
where are we Christians in all this?
where are you messengers of hope in all this?
i heard that tomorrows not promised today..
what if i died tomorrow?
what would the people have to say?
what would i be leaving with?
i don't want no regrets no
i don't want no regrets.
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