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My Father Please hear my cries And rescue me from my misery I’m tired of being quite I’m tired of not driving I’m tired of not doing anything I’m tired of not having The job I really enjoy doing I’m tired of not having What I can call my own I’m tired of placing me On the sidelines While others leave me behind In riches, fortune, and success I’m tired of people saying Negativity thinks about me The world shovels a nail unto the ground With the hammer of discouragement and ridicule I’m to take care of my responsibilities But never shall I allow anyone To disrespect me To talk to me like a child To treat me like a child To control my life’s Every minute To discourage me Never having anything good to say I’m limited to the words I’m able to utter Because the driven assumptions Of blowing steam at the world That I like to raise my voice Running out of answers to numerous of questions Needing time alone Our just don’t care at all Even though all these things Are honestly false My words are meaningless Unless I tired myself out With actions and deeds That give you glory O Lord That when my day comes Of divine exhortation I pray I’m able to stand With strength and humility Even if the people Surrounding me Shall speak all manner of evil Scandalizing my name Disrespecting me And trying to run over me I shall allow you to Pick up this broken vessel And remake me Because I’m in a very deep cave That no one cares To help me get out from it Yea in this grand fight I’m definitely alone Feeling there is no help Not anyone cares for me Because I should not Really exist Because everyone is concern About my wife And treat me like a man Investment heading for death Invisible from the world No one is available to help me Please hear me O Lord For You I seek mercy Don’t be angry with me Washing your hands of My troubles I’m telling you what I feel Because no one else Wishes to listen I cannot keep these things Inside of me Unless I loose my mind And soon fall to my death Within my own means I’m very limited But in Christ I can do anything Tell me where to go Tell me what to do about thee What shall it take for me to utter great words? Sending it to your precious people? How long shall I wait to feel the bodily chills of the deep liquid grave? For this I cannot wait Nor shall it be procrastinated For it shall remain in the Back of my conscience That maybe I’m not saved after all That I’m just playing church And not serious about you But how do they know How I feel? Do the people ever close the fiery? Do they ever speak with less anger? Less questioning? Less analysis? They don’t even know this But for other things I shall wait |
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