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The importance of our proper
attitude can’t be overstated;
are we, blessed children or a
sad bunch of spectral paupers,

unable to see our identity in
Christ? Do we understand, what
it means to be… humbled? Are
we, naively carrying our sins,

to justify our sense of guilt?
Are we willing to repent and
turn away from our wickedness?
Or do we prefer the soft silt

of Death… to cover our bones?
Author notes
  
Inspired by:
2 Chr 7:14; Gen 3:19; Eccl 8:8

Learn more about me and my poetry at: amazon (dot) com

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2018, All rights reserved.
Miss Me Sep 2017
To move with grace
    Would be my wish
To live life by grace
     Would be a forsaken place
I follow close to seek
      Out this place
To lie my broken spirit
      but not my final resting place
Phoebe Hynes Jun 2017
wet
I am humbled by the rain
The way it mingles and manages
With every tree
And pocket between leaves.

I am honored
To be collected and covered
With each available drop
As I make my way outside.

I am humbled.
I am honored.

I am wet.
Soulace May 2017
To know that someone
Listens to my open heart
Breathes life in my day

Thank you!
This one's dedicated to my 5 followers. Just the fact that people enjoy my poetry and listen to me as I open up my heart really gave me another reason to keep writing and exposing my inner thoughts with whoever would listen. Thank you so much!!
Em Apr 2016
He said that he wasn't good enough for me, and I think that's what set me over the top. Because all my life I have never been good enough for anyone: friends, parents, boys, anyone. And finally I had met someone who I thought didn't take me for granted. Someone who I believed loved me. I thought that he honestly believed he wasn't good enough, which in turn made him the perfect fit. But I was wrong. What he was really saying was that I didn't deserve what he was giving me. I didn't deserve being walked all over, the lies, the secrets. I think he was genuinely saying that I deserved better then what he was ever going to offer me. And after five months I still don't know what to do with that.
Written 4.18.16
sainche micano Oct 2015
we speak of thought
and carry the night
but inside our hearts
we bury the life
oh dear ego,
you run away so easy
i can't rely on you anymore
you deserve no place in chest
cause you lift me so high
then flee when i'm destroyed
.
.but at the end of the day
we'll fight to keep sane
in this colored world
i'm humbled
Love is like a bottle with
the lid ******* to tight.
Try so hard to twist
and pry it open
but it spills all over and
then it feels like a glass half full
and a waste of -

Love is like a weird transition,
never know when it's coming, but
when it does, it just feels right.
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