Free. jg-2/7/05
The equation doesn't add up,
The means to the ends,
Why I'm standing here,
Why he still defends.
All along he's been with me,
He's seen me through those times,
The times when I ran my own race,
The times I thought I'd won.
The false celebration and emptiness,
Seemed to leave me far behind,
And when I thought my maturity had saved me,
Only loneliness did I find.
He long chose me before I truly chose him,
The unknown conscience, the "little voice,"
And when I grew tired of hearing it,
I'd ignore it at my choice.
Past times seem so far away now,
Yet one step and they seem anew,
The battle rages on within me
To overcome what it can't undo.
I try to do it myself,
Twisting and pushing away,
But still the yeast rises,
Worse still when I pray.
The justifications, manipulations
They wear at the heart
Until my fighting is fleeting,
And it's broken all apart.
My crumbling body lays broken
Balled up on the ground,
Awaiting the gentle meekness
Of he that surrounds.
He chose me from among the crowd
And felt my softest touch,
The one he felt certain
The one he loved "that" much.
He took my blackness,
He took my pain,
He took my fighting and disdain.
He took my heartache,
He took my pride,
He revived that "me" deep inside.
Life's not perfect nor will it ever be
Because it's waiting to be set free.