Poetry soothes my soul.

I am lying in bed. Awake. Restless.

This mess is weighing heavy on my chest.

The rain beats down outside my window,

Normally I would feel soothed but, not tonight.

Tonight I feel as if I have let myself and my creator down,

He is the one who loves, the one who saves, the one who forgives,

But I feel unredeemable and unworthy.

This debt is piling up all around me,

He saves me time and time again,

And I have yet to repay Him.

Will I ever be able to repay Him?

What does He think about this mess I have created?

He has given me everything I could ever need,

But I push it aside, abused and neglected.

He is always there when I turn to Him,

But rarely do I turn to him.

I turn to other people, other things,

I turn to places that drain me rather than fill me up.

The heaviness of my mess weighs on me like bricks,

I physically feel it with each rise and fall of my chest,

And it leaves me breathless, almost gasping for air,

Yet I am still here searching for a new place to turn,

Tonight I am restless and utterly drained.

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About kscoughlin2013

I'm a full time college student studying English Literature and Secondary Education, a part time dreamer, and occasionally I write a decent poem or take an okay picture.
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