The metal protested As you twisted the bulb Into place.
It screamed, not wanting To light up, preferring Darkness.
Without it, we could not see, But that did not change its Preference.
Despondency resided in The shadows of a high Ceiling.
It needed your stubborn, Caring hands to change its Perspective.
We cannot be helped if we don't choose to be. Do we burden those who love us more by refusing to help ourselves, by refusing to let them assist? Only Jesus was able to draw me from the darkness.