Life is still a freight train lately. But as I glanced through my poems the other day, I found an old one. I am so far away from this place now. The person who wrote this is a stranger to me now. I don't like how dark it starts, but the end is worth it, even if it is a bit "sappy". [hopefully you'll feel the same]
Diminished
I am
Diminished,
I
Stay.
Diminishing,
Some
Do not realize
How they help me
To become
More diminished
A word
May be all it takes
Maybe
It’s even unspoken,
Just a look will do
A lot
Of my diminishment
Is screamed
Inside
My own head
“you cannot be diminished”
It would say
Using a new word
The decrepit
Old way
“you cannot become worse
-because you are already
The worst”
Jesus
Did not die
Just
To watch this unfold
No
He died,
To fold it back up
Put it in His pocket
And walk away with it
To
Once
And for all
Whisper
“Yes, you are diminished
But your life expectancy,
Is much longer
Than that word’s is”
What will happen to Me
Will begin to wage & win the war against
Diminishment
Diminishment
Will now be transformed into
Healing,
Hope will be the prescription
God the Father
Becomes the Doctor…
Jesus,
Becomes the pharmacist
His blood
The drug we wish we could have made
[but are ohh so glad we have]
Oh... & I'm sorry my posts are erratic.
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