A moment passed, as it always seems to
With guilt washing over me like the shore,
Passed without me doing what I need to,
Bound in chains of shame I failed once more.
For what was I bequeathed this gift of time
If not to use passing moments for praise?
Weary, I let passivity be my crime.
These wasted moments lead to wasted days.
The morning light is heavy with regret,
No slumber enough for this restless soul.
I laid down with my dreams serene, and yet,
Overnight my guilt turned soul black as coal.
Saying “I love you” ere I close my eyes,
Means more to me than I could realize.
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 8:42 AM UTC
A moment passed, as it always seems to
With guilt washing over me like the shore,
Passed without me doing what I need to,
Bound in chains of shame I failed once more.
For what was I bequeathed this gift of time
If not to use passing moments for praise?
Weary, I let passivity be my crime.
These wasted moments lead to wasted days.
The morning light is heavy with regret,
No slumber enough for this restless soul.
I laid down with my dreams serene, and yet,
Overnight my guilt turned soul black as coal.
Saying “I love you” ere I close my eyes,
Means more to me than I could realize.
Blogging at www.insightshurt.com
Buy “Insights Hurt: Bringing Healing Thoughts To Life” at store.bookbaby.com/book/insights-hurt