Wounded Spirit
By Fred
Lord, I pour out my all before thee Please! Please! Don't ignore me. Hide not thy face from my teary eyes Harken thy ears to my weary cries. Lord! My spirit is very badly wounded They said I'd be okay and I assumed it I assumed it would in fact be all right That they'd help me not to fall by night. But when it got dark, they turned away Vanished and left me alone in dismay What Lord could I have possibly done To make this such a hard race to run? Why must I face such spiritual wounds? And grief's acid rain my soil consumes. What did I do to deserve this hurt? Lord they made me feel lower than dirt. But Lord, I'll stand still and wait on you For you promised you would bring me through. You spake your peace, I was glad to hear it You said, 'I will heal your wounded spirit.'Can you relate to the frustration stated in this poem? Written October 16th, 2001 © on Oct 16 2001 11:01 AM PST 0 • 1
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"Lord, I pour out my all before thee..."