| All Doggone |
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Sometimes, I cannot find my joy. For, it's all doggone. A burden comes, to drag me down, I cannot face head-on. So, there I go, under the covers, As I pull them over me; To hide away from all my fears, Where giants cannot see. My stomach knots into a ball. I will not open any door. There is no way to find some peace And life becomes a chore. I just go through the motions, To protect my heart from hurt. For, if I poke my head out, again, I'm sure I will get burnt. Oh, Lord, what is to become of me? I cannot live like this, Unable to be of use to You; Consumed by cowardice. I need a friend for comfort, For protection from the rain, To bring about some miracle And take away the pain. Please, release me from this prison And set my spirit free. I want to be able to love, again, To live in Your security. |
| Other poems by Derry A large collection of poems, submitted by Derry |
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