Poetry, Poetry, Poetry,
In my head.
Is it written and is it read?
Or is it nonexistent, but longing to be said?
Again,
It passes like a road made of notes.
Pretend,
That the tune is my hopeless soul.
A friend,
Walking towards a post.
A lamp.
A night light.
A star,
Burning bright in the sky.
I look up and see.
That my fate isn't what I thought it would be.
But that's fine.
It's not my will but thine.
Goodbye old me,
You're not who I want to be.
Just go away after I count to 3...
1
2
3
I feel the same,
Maybe I should make more of an effort to change.
Stick to the things that I used to know.
Instead of letting evil show.
Jesus is the only way,
I cannot dismay,
His glory shone in my face.
Make me new.
Show me what You can do.
I trust You.
