|
All Doggone
Joyce C. Lock
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.
|
