Momma says don't touch the thorns

They make your fingers bleed but I love the scars  that they often leave Each tells a story Some old and some new Each with their own glory  and fascination will rise  and curiosity grows We'll have to learn from our tribulations   from the thorns we will touch Some hurt more than others Sometimes we bleed longer Sometimes the thorns get lodged leaving a wound on the tip of my fingers  It's like I'll never learn  but the thorns are protecting the thing I want most The flower  It's infecting my skin and my bones trying to knock me down  these thorns are till they run out of stones but the thing they don't know is that my heart truly loves them It yearns for their wonder Strives for their cover  Maybe my heart has some thorns of it's own My maker has been splintering them breaking my walls The world has built them Though they're not very tall  the world didn't know my father is a carpenter  he can break these forsaken walls he hasn't been fooled  As I look up and say  "But lord I'm just a child"  He knows I'm greater, bigger, stronger He's preparing me for battle  strengthening my laughter This battle is one of love  and it's his people who need it They have thorns too Just like the ones I once had  He wants to free them  and show them the love he showed me The love of a father The only love that's free 

This poem is about: 
Our world


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