A Brief Collection Of Poetry Of An Allegorical Nature That Is Terrible

Untitled Part 11

I look back on those times long ago,
When God first gave me a gift to flow,
But times have changed and don't I know
It's past time for my mind and spirit to grow.

I claim to be a victim of insanity,
But really, it's just a form of vanity
To help me deal with life's calamity
Because I lived too long in fantasy

It may be a duty to escape,
But as I lie here wide awake
Knowing that my decisions, though in mistake
Were made while knowing I couldn't flake.

My choices made me who I am
But maybe life was all a scam,
A simple journey upon a tram,
To meet my God, the great I am.

This poem may lack formality,
But such is written in necessity,
And while my words may not be pretty
I shout that Jesus died for our infidelity

I've heard it said Christianity causes low self esteem
By those who don't believe in the Supreme,
And choose to live inside a dream,
Where Iife is naught but fluff and creme

I bear these people no Ill will
When they challenge my faith I won't sit still
But instead my own faith I will drill,
Through rational thought and remaining chill.

I love my God, I love my life
But let's not say I don't feel strife
However when Satan rises like a knife
I'll trust my God to maintain my afterlife.

Against God no one can stand,
And his will none can contend,
Yet he'll always give a helping hand
In hopes our relationship can mend.

I believe Mr. Beaver said it best,
He is not tame, but he is good,
And though many may contest,
Obey the will of God we should.

When God calls me to eternal rest,
I'll worship him in all my ways
My life will have reached its crest,
And I'll be with him all my days.

There's only one God who is my muse,
An almighty God, who won't confuse,
My multitude of sin, as me being refuse,
And calls me son, despite my ruse.