WHERE DO I STAND
I wake up each morning, feeling weak
Knowing that I have not a chance to be sleek.
Savoring the taste of my salty sweat
Yet having in my minds back, of a savoring sweet.
Perfecting his gifts, brought my way,
Knowing not
Where do I stand?
I stand and face the hills and pray
Staring at the sun, and its golden ray.
Hoping and watching that the time is neigh
And all hope is not lost, as relief came in a rushing sigh.
I ask myself one more time.
Where do I stand?
I stand in his presence,
Watching all, with great difference,
Silently praying and giving reference
For he has given me answers, to my questions.
Where do I stand?
(c)
Tsobaza
081104
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Reminiscing's of a Renegade
PoetryThoughtful lines written by a struggling young man. Etched in some form of Amateurish poetry for those who care to read.