Oh God you love us, yet we suffer so.
So surely good can come from whence we cry.
Like whipping winds that sailors use to go—
Might pain be used to lift our spirits high?
But how, if God you loved us could you stand—
To let us hurt for even just one day?
When with a single wave from your great hand—
Our suffering would so quickly melt away.
Dear God you are our Father, from the first.
And let us hurt like all good father’s do.
‘Cause pain in life can hardly be the worst.
When growing up is what we’re meant to do.
And when we feel it’s more than we can bear—
Lord Jesus Christ please comfort us in prayer!
3 comments:
this is beautiful, both in form and in content (as it should in a sonnet). I try to do this but so far it's always failure. so thank you for this, very well done! I will save it.
Thank you for the kind words. Perhaps others would appreciate your poetry more than you?
it's possible. I certainly don't appreciate my own poetry (and it's specifically with poetry - I can appreciate my other projects to a certain extent, but not poetry, which just embarrasses me). yet it could be (very likely) that I just suck at poetry.
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