The Things I Do
The things I do, to you, that constantly hurts,
Your feelings, I feel, are loving, but worse,
When I dis-obey, I don't mean to offend,
So weak, and frail, I feel when I sin,
Up, and down, I spin, as I try to get through it,
A feast full of scriptures, and a thirst full of music,
And sounds of peace, when it's all about you,
The words from your mouth, are not false, or untrue,
I try to make due, with the many of blessings,
When it's all said, and done, you make life seems so treacherous,
Ignored, and I've hurt you, if only I knew,
To not make a wish when the candles are blew,
To leave you, no way could I ever be through,
A second chance to live, on a earth brand new,
My father, my God, we owe it all to you,
Unselfish, steady watching, the things I do to you...
- Author: Raymond Jones (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: April 19th, 2020 21:17
- Comment from author about the poem: To have this kind of love for someone, your father, your God, it's very beautiful. To feel that love, or hurt when showed.so Jehovah from the bottom of my heart I do cherish you show, and do for me.
- Category: Love
- Views: 16
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