The presence of emotions kills my boast While in this body which is my host I talk so strong, yet I’m weak My fact is healthy, my truth is sick
I’ve been through hell, and smell like smoke Battling the pressuring thoughts that make me choke I work daily, to my fears defeat But the mirror says, I’m first on the list
Oh! I’ve been abused outside the manual It’s sad to think a debased me is normal This wisdom finds only a very few That looks beyond size, strength, and hue
Now I search for the real barer of the name I’m called Only to find in my deepest remorse That I am the extension of God Living in a body made of clay