"J"
Jesus, it was a hard day
not meaning to use your name in vain
rather calling on you to hear me
Jesus, I know I am flawed
I could do things better
I am calling on you to hear me
Jesus, it is so damned hard
forgive my cussing
I am flailing at heaven
I remember having written a poem about 'cussing.' This poem isn't about cussing, but it has the same flavor. Sometimes flailing is very justified.
ReplyDeleteThis one strikes at my heart, cold and true. I call out, too, in my times of despair and have flailed at the heavens so this really hits home.
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