Of these I am sure:
That the Lord is my shepherd;
That His Spirit keeps my heart pure;
That by His Grace, my cries are always heard.
Beauty, they say, lies in the eyes of the beholder.
What do you see when you look at me?
What do I see when I look at you?
What do we see when we look at ourselves?
The voices are here again;
And these are not the friendly kind;
Not the ones that laugh at the jokes only I understand;
Not the ones I argue with about which color shoes match with color suit;
Or ask where I left my keys last night;
Not the ones that tell me to get my backside off the bed and into the shower;
Those voices can be irritating, but I know they mean well.
I had this friend who ‘attacked’ me.
He touched my bottom line,
Then dug deeper.
I lashed out,
Breaking my facade of calm.
It was sad,
I felt within so bad.
Is he glad?
For pushing me over the edge,
And driving-in this wedge?
I’m not pleased
To walk over his ‘feelings’ while saying ‘please’.
I know this blade I hold,
Isn’t meant for severing the bonds we have.
And here we are…
Yes, here we are;
Caught in this fleeting period of time dubbed ‘now’;
Where all choices are made – here and now;
Whilst there’s still breath and strength.
This heart of mine won’t let me have any peace.
See, there it goes chasing after another butterfly.
It flutters in the wind, dancing now,
Then throwing a tantrum in the next – ah,
There it goes falling head over heels. [sigh]
I find it quite interesting,
That time in all its uniqueness,
Can at once be seen as the most expensive thing we have,
And taken as the cheapest thing there is.