Dear God

Dear God,

In spite of all that's in my life I know You've got my back,

my faith (for lack of a better word) in You is hot like tracks,

no show for videos though can convey what's going on,

it seems no matter how I write it's all just going wrong.

Each day I feel this Lupus slowly sapping at my life,

it's like I have to use a gun while stabbing at a knife,

most days I curse when waking up; I never have it right,

when eve'ning falls my fingers clench while grabbing at the night.

If You should call me home Dear God take me with open arms,

I'd rather that than living an existence close to gone,

that's filled with petty arguments; I heard Your message clear,

to turn the other cheek Dear Father; Heavens yes it's clear.

When it's my time I only ask please keep my children safe,

my Stinky Faces and my Boy-Boy; just for children's sake,

they're innocent and if need be for them I'd sacrifice,

my very soul if that means they're un-harmed to pass this life.

This writing God is just my way to talk from time to time,

You've given me the gift of gab to walk from rhyme to rhyme,

I thank You much for listening 'cause You're a busy man,

or woman; please Dear God just touch me with Your busy hand.

©2015 The Cunning Linguist