"thoughtfulness" poems
When Christmas shopping is finally done,
wrapped gifts lie ‘neith a tree
that sparkles bright with tinsel and light
for everyone to see.
Each gift has been selected
with thoughtfulness and care.
Toys and such will mean so much
like all the gifts we bear.
But let us keep within our heart
the much greater gift than these.
One from above, with God’s great love
should bring us to our knees.
A gift of birth to all on Earth.
A gift that’s far from small.
To everyone, He gave His Son…
The greatest gift of all.
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 10:25 AM UTC
We all live our lives
Hidden behind the masks we switch out based on who we're around:
Fake smiles for friends and family;
Painful, quiet thoughtfulness for coworkers, employers, and educators;
Horrible secrets we keep from everyone we meet;
From everyone we love
And sometimes, these masks are gorgeous,
Like those you'd see at a masquerade.
Masks that mimic what's really there,
Yet hide it from sight as well.
And everyone who wears these masks
Will look and a mirror and think to themselves:
"Who am I? Why don't I recognize this person reflected back at me?"
It's the mask.
We wear the mask.
We hide behind it.
But when did the mask become us?
When did it become everything we are?
When did these masks start taking control?
Will we let this continue?
When does it stop?
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 10:49 PM UTC
Compassion isn't just a word; it is not a sensation or a behavior. Compassion is a moral; it's a standard to uphold and live by. To be compassionate is to show thoughtfulness and to be caring to people. Being compassionate is to extend humanity a second chances, even if they may not deserve it. The kindnesses shown through being compassionate will extent; this kindness, though sometimes hard to find, is always there. To be compassionate is to be human; however, this humanity sowing is not just what the average person sees every day; it is the light in us, and is the best of what we can be. Everybody has times that they are down and just can't get up; the people that are willing to go out of the way to help these people out and bring them up are what I consider compassionate. Showing compassion can do a multitude of good things; these things being a chain reaction of kindness and love or something as modest as a start to a new friendship. Everyone at some time or another will do something unscrupulous; to be compassionate is to forgive these misdeeds and to give a second chance, no matter how undeserving they may seem. With compassion up held in society the world truly be a better place. The world would be so much better if everyone set aside differences, greed, the anger, the hatred and war; the world if we just showed a little compassion to the population would flourish and be a truly great place.
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 11:09 PM UTC
It's poisonous claws
scratching up from the inside
of my chest, they open
a path of lurid squalor
festering the internal wounds
with rotting meat
that spreads from within
to the skin that crawls
and dies, cell by cell
into the empty stale air
surrounding our conversation
The words float
from one breath to another
without ever really landing
to a precise spot
of connection
They just mimic meanings
and thoughtfulness
when they are void of any feelings
There is no spark of life
no life itself
denied to us
by the putrid scent
we ignore the existence of
No knowledge of pain
or reality
just a dull sense
of immortality
as we still
like the dust suspended
motion our lips without sense
nor sense of self
Corroding second by second
by second 'til we
become dust ourselves
Apr 25, 2022
Apr 25, 2022 at 8:53 AM UTC
armed and dangerous, 20 oz. of hot hot coffee, tablet on lap,
sitting on the deck overlooking the bay, and once again,
unusual for me, I am touched by the sanctity of the serenity
pervading, assuaging, by waves just loud enough to sway to,
the off/on chatter of the early bird's convocation of the morning's
blessing, have survived another night to greet greatly the outlines
of loveliness in the all~of~surroundings, which hacks my brain,
for I am by forty years of habitation more accustomed to a rough and tumble city boy trader, screamer of:
buy/sell/straddle/strangle/crush/kill/mercilessness, no quarter,
no mindfulness in me naturally, until nature robs my tools of
denial, and I smell the sanctity of fresh sheets laid on bed, the
warmed blood, vein coursing, suggesting just listen, listen,
the hot shower water eradicating the prior day's sinfulness,
the highly valued sensations of sensational emptiness, and
words drifting from the surround movie theater of a vista beloved,
coming for to fill and fulfill this always~in~mourning soul by the
overhauling of a crisp, cleansing day break
I, familiar with notions of perpetuity, and at best, conceptual, though
my mind permits a drift to the thoughtfulness that this place, this moment, this performance art of spectacular breathing of another
dawning day, after thousands upon thousand of its predecessors,
and the possibility, not remote, but not promised, to anyone, just may
occur at least once more, and one must learn contentment from but
that idea, and sip the cooling dregs of coffee, the sounds of human
interference, car door slamming, the heaving breathing of morning joggers, the wind rising, the white caps snapping, precursors and
signs that natural perfection is never permanent, always in transition,
and a whispery smile crosses my cheeks, as a silly thought invades,
nature is so very human~like and yet, immortal…
composed between 6:30 and 8:30 am this day
Wed Aug 20 twenty twenty-five
Silver Beach
Aug 20, 2025
Aug 20, 2025 at 8:34 AM UTC
crisp atmosphere, special ordered
for perfect pumpkin patching, apple picking,
stout sweaters all, a blueish autumnal sky,
orange 'n red leaves delivered on time
the old uber-man-grand-pa,
hired as a day driver,
saddles them up,
three generations all tucked in a
repeating mise en scène
a replay of some thirty years earlier,
when the now-father
was about the same age,
as his boy, three years aged
and yet so impatient
asking the same question
his father perfected,
in the same sweet voice,
at about the same time,
in the same way,
a little voice from deep in
the cavernous back seat,
sighing, squeaking with an
I've-seen-it-all ennui,
some mere five minutes into
the hour's plus journey
to the 'country' bound
"are we there yet?"
titters 'n snickers from assorted adults,
but grandpa weeps words with composition instant,
so many answers to such an important question,
so serious that an admission, confession
required, due you,
grandpa still asks the same question
every day of his life
it's Sunday and longish poems per Yeoman,
strictly verboten,
God knows there's an essay unwritten
as the answer, a symphonette with
a thousand opus, by-your-command repertoire,
a pumpkin for every patch,
some answers that even may be a
young prince's carriage in hiding
but for now let this suffice,
sometimes yes, sometimes no,
and sometimes, the goal line just goes and moves on ya
so with utmost seriousness
a purposed thoughtfulness proposed,
posing said inquiry knows no age limitation,
if you have not asked of yourself this day,
"are we there yet?”
then the answer is surely,
not yet
Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 5:14 PM UTC
I don't like to celebrate my birthday
I don't celebrate my birthday.
What is there to celebrate?
My existence is stained in accident and I don't need to be given purpose in rubber balloons, and paper streamers, and cheap wax candles.
My birthday feels like a date that's begging and pleading for someone to acknowledge that I'm alive, and I don't want to have to pretend to be.
I don't want to be thankful for stupid gifts that are brought on by obligation and I don't want to smile when I hear "happy birthday" come off your lips. I'm not happy.
My birth is just a day. A mistaken date, an accidental date, a victimized date that had to bear my name being attached to it like I'm of some significance to the calendar. Like I'm of some significance to time.
Time that will also be one more year closer to death which is just as unbearable because it's confirmation of my accidental, mistaken, existence. It's the stamp that says "she shouldn't have been breathing in the first place". Don't date my tombstone.
Its uncomfortable for me to celebrate my birthday.
I'm not trying to be depressing, or pitiful, or too "deep" about things BUT this is just a fact. A statement. An acceptance in my life. A way things are kind of feeling. Permanent.
So don't tell me I'm thinking about it all wrong and to be more positive. That people love me and are happy I'm alive and want me to know that. That's a bunch of ******** If you loved my existence you wouldn't need to express that to me in chocolate icing, and blow horns, and confetti bits. I'm not pitiful. Birthdays are just a pitiful excuse for you to make my existence more about living for you. A debt for your "kindness" at throwing me a party. A debt for your "thoughtfulness" because of that expensive gift you bought with me in mind. A debt for your "love".
That's what I mean when I say simply, " I don't want to be 19".
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 8:31 PM UTC
sleepless
empty
unknowing
disinclined
goodbye
restless
thoughtfulness
remembering
gone
absent
betrayal
angered
hatred
torn
lunatic
anxiety
doubtful
tormented
delusion
unsettled
fear
lonely
apathetic
envious
optimistic
hopeful
eager
reliving
lies
affliction
constant
end
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 3:08 AM UTC
The first thought in my head
At the sight of the two together
Was, 'they don't match, but they fit,'
Like the beginning of Fall meeting the end of Summer.
Bright and outspoken
Warm summer days
Beside the quiet thoughtfulness
Of Autumn's leisurely change.
It's beautiful and intriguing
It's not meant for paper alone
So I'll shout it from the highest mountains
And write it in the most-heard songs.
Summer's heat speaks of joy
Though the nights talk of pain
And through the smiles and laughter
Is evidence of life's strain.
Autumn is quiet but opinionated
And riddled with hurricanes
But the light of Summer
Will never let Autumn fall again.
Summer writes of beautiful chaos
Autumn writes of simple existence
They don't match, but they fit
I'm amazed every time I see them.
See, the first thought in my head
At the sight of the two together
Was, 'they don't match, but they fit,"
Like the beginning of Fall meeting the end of Summer.
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 7:27 PM UTC
It's wonderful knowing
someone is there-
someone to talk to-
someone who always
knows just what to do.
It's always been wonderful
knowing there's you!
It's wonderful having
someone who gives
something worth while
to each day she lives.
Someone who's thoughtfulness
always shows through.
It's always been
wonderful,
Mom,
having you!
I love you Mama!
(Mother's Day poem)
2001
COPYRIGHT; Sabrina Denise Healey,
~Angelmom~
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 11:12 PM UTC
The man whom I shall love,
Who will he be?
I don't know yet
I may have met him already
I may have not
I am still young
I have time to find him
And he find me
The man whom I shall love
Will have a heart so large
It radiates outside of his body
A welcoming aura
Friendly
Loving
Kind
He will welcome me each day with a smile
He will not need to speak to tell me he loves me
He will hold me and cherish me
And love me so much he cannot help but smile
The man whom I shall love
Will have a spirit
Of courage
Compassion
Wisdom
And leadership
He will guide my decisions when I am confused
He will strengthen me when I am weak
He will let my cry into his shoulder and then wipe the tears from my eyes
He will help me solve problems and questions
He will protect me and fight with me when we are challenged
The man whom I shall love
Will have a smile of joy
A smile that spreads wide across his face
A smile that expresses what he feels and his thoughts
His smile will warm me
He will cause me to smile
We will smile together
The man whom I shall love
Will have a laugh
A laugh that can be loud
Echoing over the hills with happiness
A laugh that can be as quiet as a bubbling creek
A laugh that will roar like a waterfall
A laugh that will whisper like a summer breeze
A laugh that will spread to everyone around him
A laugh that will make me laugh
A laugh that is caused by mine
The man whom I shall love
Will have a mind of strength
A mind that can be counted on
He will have discernment
Truthfulness
Respect
Honor
Thoughtfulness
He will share his opinions and dreams with me
I will be able to confide in him safely
His ideas will be full of animation
Excitement
And passion
His mind will never be boring
The man whom I shall love
Will have strong hands
That are firm but gentle
Tough but soft
That work hard
And are honest
His hands will be generous
Kindness will flow from them
But he will also use them to fight
If someone threatens him
The man whom I shall love
Will have a voice unlike any other
A voice that can be deep and reassuring
That can be humorous and happy
That can be silent when it needs to be
That can sing and soar upon the wind
We'll sing together
Laugh together
Cry together
And be silent together
The man whom I shall love
Will be a man of God
Who will be faithful and loyal
He will have a heart for those Lost
Willing to sacrifice anything
Even his life
Together we'll pray and seek God
Together we'll read the bible and deeply discuss it
Together we will serve and love for our entire lives
The man whom I shall love
Will be very special indeed
He is the only man
That could care so deeply for me
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 6:51 AM UTC
What is it to be righteous? To walk in godliness and purity? To hold the heart of God like the bride?
I'll admit I've felt complacent, disbelief, and traitorous. My own efforts alone have not filled my cup. But as I've fallen, as I've grown in mercy and understanding.
I recognize the shell of this existence. The temporal wasting of my eyes. I feel my lovers heart and still I want more. Not from selfish desire but because I've felt the inner working of the spirit!
The everlasting father. The bridegrooms love. And the Kings will for my life. After that, there is emptiness. A quaint shadow in the smile of beauty and passion.
All this rest inside my brain, my reasoning mind ticks with thoughtfulness. Reaching with my words to the universal will untouchable. Touchable. Touch me.
Show me. Move in me. Speak to me in my heart. God I want to know that love again. The infinity of your fire burning away my sin.
And it's odd, as I pull my bible out of its cold box. Plastered to Fear And loathing in Las Vegas. I guess I am afraid of what I'll learn. I can't keep ignoring this turbulent hope. But the promise that you are always with me. Gives me strength.
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 7:59 PM UTC
Dawn casts her long line for spring
Days linger to catch the angel irises bloom
Enveloped by early chirping chitter-chatter
Lightly crusted sleep argues for lids to remain closed
Black perking wake-me oil makes a strong cups case for compromise
A nudge to join the living
- On negotiated terms -
Somewhere between another dream and lavender bubbles
The contract will begin
Foggy feet shuffle onto the wheel
Spying steps creak tattle-tale floorboards alerting all on the way
Pleading thoughtfulness
You beg for silence as the Ra room comes into view
Brightly checkered yellow-brown mustard window patterns
Cut diagonal boxes across maple hardwood
Stained glass dots of emerald, violet, and red raspberry
Dance on lemon washed walls as they turn and wink for a smile
Your morning chair sets at the edge of the warming sun pond inviting you
Join them
You listen to the ripples of space
Your cushioned dock perfectly positioned for a loving embrace
You sit
And slowly dip legs into the glowing pool
Drenched limbs cocoon in the heavy webbing of golden rays
Bathing
The chickadees celebration is known
Immersed
Lids succumb to the orange haze
The Girl from Ipanema sings
Young and lovely
You feel wonderful
No risk of drowning here...
Only in happiness
One radiating breath
Before the Samba plays again
© 2019 MJL
Mar 26, 2019
Mar 26, 2019 at 2:38 AM UTC
To the boy in my back seat
I can see you my friend
There is contemplation behind your eyes
And thoughtfulness behind your smile
I drive on stealing glances as I go
The things that make up who you are never cease to amaze me
As we travel farther away from what we know I am calm
I feel this way because of you
I would stand on the pier with you
Or next to the grass where the goats graze
There aren’t many places I wouldn’t explore with you
But for now you’re safe in my back seat
And I can dream of what is yet to come
As I steal glances into my rear view mirror
Of the boy in my back seat.
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 1:02 AM UTC
Flesh is torn in monotone,
Hairy needles as legs pegs onto white
Sticky string,
Sharp fangs dipped in poison
Sink through flesh and *****
And crush bones with a sting.
It is **** or be killed out there in the nature you worship.
The cruelty adds to the beauty of a deep red sunset.
Vicious waves add to the elegance of an ocean,
So don’t forget
That while you turn a blind eye to
The things you don’t like,
You tell yourself a half truth
(A good lie),
It is the perspective which alters sight.
Perhaps it’s more comforting to see
The sun as a beacon of light instead of
An orb in cruel fire,
But if you can see both,
Maybe you’ll find hope in hopelessness,
Or you’re humbled by thoughtfulness,
and maybe you’ll see the
Nature of life for what it truly is.
Oct 18, 2021
Oct 18, 2021 at 5:19 AM UTC
He walks me to the door
Like a gentleman should
Meanwhile, I think of things to say, filling the air with lighthearted and meaningless conversation
"Can you call me later when you get home?"
"Thanks for inviting me, it was fun!"
"Have fun skiing."
It was all said, it was all acknowledged
The only word that mattered to me was his one
"Wait..."
Thoughtfulness in his eyes, he moves closer to me...
Forgetfulness is a sin
I do not remember if my eyes closed,
If my foot popped like in movies,
Nor can I remember how long it lasted
I do remember the three words that slipped from my lips
"I love you"
The same three slipped his
Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 2:34 PM UTC
Don't be a fool, it's commercial not holy,
Thankful one night, the next in a hurry.
Camp outside don't miss your chance
to fight over that TV even though it's the last
Watch out! You don't want to be trampled in the hurry!
Rushing in at 4 am the scene is so blurry
But you stood in the cold just to find the gold
The treasure sure to bring on the "oooh's"
But there's so many who're jealous
They'll cuss and consume you
No fighting now, tis the season!
But you got to it first so who cares what they do
Even though the debt is rising
Even in your pockets
Can't hide the idea,
there's no safe place to lock it.
The tradition's been there for centuries
If you don't give you won't get
but who really cares who's
in the most debt
We'll pay it off in time to go under again
But each year it gets harder to top your friend
And there's no family member more satisfied with ends
The gift card full of cash now that's the best gift!
For perhaps they can pay off a little
of their overspending
while the stores roll around in their profits of billions
And the average home is filled with silent depression disappointment of expectation meets the realization
There's so many unwanted presents
Then comes the dreaded texting and ignorance
sitting in a room filled with a cold sting of silence
after spending every dime you had in thoughtfulness
All with the very best of intentions
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 1:44 PM UTC
You think you're the better writer with
Your indentations,
Arrogant alliteration,
Games of Rhymation;
When You Capitalize For No Good Reason
OR TYPE IN ALL CAPS;
When you type in italic just because you can;
With thy ineffectual employment of Shakespearean formulation
Or elongated conveyance of your articulation,
When you type in
funny patterns to
better express the
thoughtfulness and
superiority behind the gemstone
artist,
And, all- your; meaningful, strategically placed' punctuation!
And perpisfuly mispled wurds bcuz yur so ironic,
And your cryptic title that's meant to come off as genius.
Dylan could crack a skull without a hammer.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC
counting goodbye kisses-
there were only five or six instances when they didn't happen
when you fell asleep during the ride (at least I kissed you on the cheek)
when you wanted to give me a hug instead-
that day you dropped me off at a party.
when you told me to get out of your car-
we were actually official then haha
and when I "stormed off," frustrated- that probably happened three times,
counting the dollars spent-
for someone who's a broke college student,
I didn't let that stop me from showering you with thoughtfulness
because money will never be able to buy a gaze from you
counting the reminders I've given you-
that we are something, special
I think this one might be the two hundredth one
counting your equivalents
I have them all saved in a folder,
and I dont ever go a day without looking at them.
counting all the times I've cried the last few months,
there were at least 133, and only one was over a movie.
counting all the times you hurt me
I stopped at 18 before I told you
I loved you-
not worth counting those
because that just made it 134-
and pain in the form of endless sheep.
so I decide to sleep instead- and forget-
and never count again.
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 2:20 PM UTC
I cannot heal
This pain keeps stinging
As each line of thought
Reveals new truths
That are hard to accept
Kindness was repaid with anger
Love with rejection
Faithfulness with betrayal
Devotion with abandonment
Gentleness with rage
Dedication with neglect
Patience with intolerance
Thoughtfulness with disregard
Compassion with coldness
Mercy with judgment
Saneness with unsoundness
Truth and honesty with lies
Open arms and acceptance with bitterness
So why do I feel guilt and sadness
For crimes I did not commit?
Why am I taking the blame for a lie?
To be falsely accused is a worse sentence
Than to be justly condemned
At least the guilty can repent and start a new life
Rather than stay mired in a web of lies
One can learn to accept criticism and move on
Or to laugh at oneself
And in humility make the necessary changes
But this... this slander
Is simply poison
To the soul
Feb 14, 2010
Feb 14, 2010 at 5:15 PM UTC
Your beautiful smile;
I see it upon your face
whether its directed to me
or because of me-
then I get...
that pull and that tug-
tighter on my heart.
You're reeling me in
And I'm falling One Step More!
When we're talking about nothing,
yet; everything is being said-
your thoughtfulness and caring
just pours out with every word-
then I get...
that pull and that tug-
tighter on my heart.
You're reeling me in
And I'm falling One Step More!
Come on, , you know
you're already walking on broken eggshells
and running on blind fate-
then I get...
that pull and that tug-
tighter on my heart.
You're reeling me in
And I'm falling One Step More!
One Step more to
taking your hand forever,
capturing your heart as mine,
I'm falling deeper in love
just One Step More-
then I get...
that pull and that tug-
tightened on my heart.
You've reeled me in
And I've completely
fallen in love with you
One Step More!
2007
COPYRIGHT; Sabrina Denise Healey,
~Angelmom~
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 6:20 PM UTC
*My dear BELOVED
You are YOU
It be not because I think of you
That is why you are the best
It is because you are the BEST
That is why I think of you
And it is because you are the BEST-EST
That is why I LOVE you
I'm proud of your success
Your success is my success
Our Relationship is
Support plus inter-exchangeable
Celebration, Delighting
In what you choose to do
Thoughtfulness towards your work
Honor and dignity towards each other
Making mutual choices of
What you really want
I am Subservient
Nothing bad when you are my leader
Losing power is the key for me
Losing masculinity & femininity, gender roles
Adds that respect and
Develops material & Paternal feelings
For each other's needs
I ask:
Does your privilege position
Maintain our relationship?
Absolutely NOT!
We value professional and
Personal submission to each other
We have decided to throw out
Defining labels, being judgmental
of any type towards each other
We accept each other as we are
With existing self-contentedness,
Self-egoism in individuals and society
Such relationship Wont survive selfishness
Respect, trust, communication
Drives our relationship
We invest in future together
NO NO to money when in
Comes to our relationship
Our last words:
Keep up with LOVE
Interdependence, Equality,
Fulfill LOVE*
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 6:28 AM UTC
His courtiers all, were blind,
though their eyes seemed
quiet normal, full of glint
ay, there is the rub,
On his proud countenance,
the king plastered for ever
an expression of thoughtfulness
a make believe, a clever construct,
Wasn't it the curse of the lineage?
"May the powerful suffer
the constant fear of fall,
unless courageous to fulfill
the karma truly assigned
without fear or favor"
Every successive king
would ritualistically burn,
his copy of leather bound parchment
written this in lilting Latin verse.
"Bullshit,what would
the evil genius of the universe
would think of me, am I
just a pusillanimous *****
the thirst for war runs in my veins!"
Sneering he lets out a war cry
perfectly pitched and phrased
in the tradition of heroes of yore!
It sounds odd even to himself
"No escape from the rut" he murmurs
Everybody pretend not to see
the big ***** in his armor.
who would take arms against
the kingdom's sea of troubles?
The king was in fact a lonely being
fear alone kept him company,
in person of the lord, his man Friday
in an armor that made him seem fearless!
Dame fear was his true consort
the queen only a substitute, wearing crown,
she was truly appreciated
only when she acted as his tranquilizer,
helping his worries galore go to sleep,
employing complex strategies.
Her favorite one for the final lap
was a lullaby that goes thus,
"Uneasy lies the head
that wears a crown"
in his nightmares regular,
mighty empires crumbled.
So he did the best he can
not anything for love to spread
but to consolidate destructive instinct;
he invented weapons,
went on upgrading it
day in and day out to freeze fear
blacksmiths, knights,
horsemen, cannons, guns
his fear took many forms
and he used them to feel powerful
while trembling with fear.
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 7:26 PM UTC
They call me 'fake',
Apparently too genuine for the masses to believe,
They grasp at any weapon,
To muddy the waters & deceive,
The Bible speaks of money,
And the lust it can incite,
They claw, destroy, froth at the mouth,
Morning, noon, & night.
How sad they cannot see,
More beauty in a single feather, fallen leaf upon the ground,
Simple treasures God created,
Worth more than any gemstone to be found.
Botox, fake ***** make-up by the gallon,
Ken & Barbie look-a-likes,
No thanks,
I'll take Marilyn & Jimmy Fallon.
Give me laugh lines, stories shared,
Later round a campfire, retold,
Calloused hands, scars, crevices,
Like vintage books,
Weather-worn, faded, old.
Nothing did we bring with us,
Nothing will we take,
Except our memories, cherished moments,
God's love, His promise,
His children, He will not forsake.
I'm just a simple artist,
Girl next door, no frills or bling,
Time, thoughtfulness, care, will win me over,
Surely not any earthly thing.
Point your fingers,
Kick dirt in my eyes,
The light within will stream through,
Despite all your vicious lies.
God is with me,
Whom shall I fear?
In time, He'll right all the wrongs,
I am his daughter,
Held precious, close, & dear.
The darkness came only to destroy,
But the light will forever prevail,
Jesus extends His hand upon a ship of gold,
Step on,
A new life...set sail.
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 11:03 AM UTC