Date written: February 14 and 28, 2011
Nine years old, raging to be free,
I pursued many different dreams.
Life was slow and sweet, tho I,
I walked to a different beat.
Bigots and prejudice abounded.
I was confused, confounded, but
I knew nowhere else to go.
Protected, naive, I would climb trees.
Just a child, I recall hearing my name
whispered by the breeze.
Was it my imagination or just a daydream?
Did all those things really happen or did
I just want it to be?
I would lie in the grass and stare at the cloudy sky,
Wondering why Christians were not being persecuted
as in days of yore.
My life has come full circle, I want God at my core.
Though I am free, I would gladly welcome bondage to
the Creator of everything, forevermore.
Damn this free will and damn the devil still.
He helps you up, then laughs aloud as he pretends
to be your best friend, then to the wolves, he
throws you down again.
Help me Lord, save a place for me. Show me what
you want me to be.
All that is in my mind, I manage to keep confined
so no one can see the confused imposter
that I want no one else to see.
The sinner that I used to be is still, quite frankly,
inside of me.
