Dear God,

It's those things,
That make angels cry upon,
Broken wings they fly,
And fall below,

Scattered and tattered,
Scared and bruised,
Can't explain what's the matter,
But it's always you,

Who, lives a life of,
Sacrifice,
Being kind to those who don't play nice,
Don't play fair,

Coin flips in the air,
Lands not in your favor,
Swallow hard and savour,
The sour stinging flavor,

The taste that you're use to,
That makes your breath smell,
Everytime you speak,
They turn their cheek ,

Cuz, your so confused and,
You make no sense,
When sense is common,
At their expense,

Asking God when can you get a break from this,
The weakest link but strong,
Constantly keep it together,
Not knowing just how long,

He's testing to the limits of the tasks that I  can bear,

Complete/ rest/ repeat,
Seems ends sight is nowhere,

Why is this my bid, why's He chosen me,
Filled with much emotion that it's paralyzing me,

What more do I do, to prove my love to you,
Seeking all my days and question if I'm pleasing You ,

I know this life's not my own, and the things at my right hand,

Never bore the last name of another,
Besides the one who I called Dad,

My children are priceless gifts,
My parents love has branded it,
Loved by ones who look like me,
Those born before and after me,


I come to the conclusion that I'm similar to Job,
Accumulated things along the way,
Just to see them go,

I pray that I'm doing this right and You'll be proud of me,

And enter into heavan on the day earth sets me free.