Shall I just curl up and die?
Cry, wail, and mourn much like the hired mourner of ancient days.
Should I stare aimlessly at the wall,
In defeat and the bitterness of it all?
Why in the world should the fact that I’ve encountered difficulty,
Give me the right to essentially burden the world at large?
Why is it that we assume if we’re having a bad day,
Those who encounter our bad attitude have to “deal with it”?
Why is it that instead of rising up for justice,
We instead cry out because our favorite television show is ending?
Fallen like rag doll,
Rising up in a new form.
Broken but recovering,
Instead of just broken;
Damaged goods for no good.
If I falter,
If I choose to return to past mistakes,
Please revile me until my dying day.
I’ll listen to your criticisms,
But it won’t define me.
Lord, turn up the flame.
Have your way,
Continue to refine me.
Through Heaven on earth,
& even days that feel akin to Sheol,
I know I can trust in you alone.