JOHN 8:7
In love with the process, longing for growth.
My mind beginnings to wonder upon what it's like situated at the thrown.
Conceited with my own thoughts on why I'm still laying around at home.
Conflicted because I am constricted to frequently feeling alone.
But I am not alone...
Molded by an army of faith, waiting to walk along my yellow brick road.
"So he or she without sin may cast the first stone."
Silents arose...
We are all sinners in this worldly abode.
So HE gave his only son to be nailed through his bones.
For us, his children.
And for that, I am never alone...
This poem is about:
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world
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