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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1512055
but mine is shredded, tattered – charred...
Seeding Change…

My heart’s impaired, no more alive;
My soul is hurt and cannot thrive.
My life is not my life to live -
My hands are tied, I cannot give.

God grants to some, amazing gifts
That touch their hearts as He uplifts
Their beings into tremendous highs;
I sit and stare – with jealous eyes...

Confusion tears my soul apart;
I have no gifts – a broken heart.
I play the fool – I trick my brain;
At times I feel so lost… insane!

Just what is real and who am I?
I cannot find my wings to fly.
I’m in a place that harbors fear;
I’ve lost the things that I hold dear.

I cannot understand this ache;
But paper hearts - they always break...
And mine is shredded, tattered – charred!
It’s crumpled up - and badly scarred.

I pray my life will make some sense;
I hate where I sit on this fence,
Despise these feelings – lost in sin.
What will it take to change within…?

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