Friday, December 8, 2017

The Gifts We Get

a fun rhyme to remind that we don’t always get the gift we wanted::


I didn’t ask for this so called gift I have
At least not that I remember
And I don’t really want to use it
It inflames hearts like it were, to the fire, tinder

It makes me seem much too direct
Making my words feel like a dagger
Under this burden, that I must carry
So often I stumble and stagger

But the truth, it must need be said!
And the truth it must prevail!
Somehow I’m compelled to follow this line
Even when i know my words will fail

So if by chance a tender heart
Will catch wind of what I said
And feel the pain of what it means
Perhaps even be filled with dread

Please understand that it comes to you
With naught but pure intention
And a hope that you can see all I do
And not just hear the words I mention

But dare you call this thing I carry
A calling, a blessing or a gift?
Don’t you know how many times 
It’s caused nothing but a rift?

To have to speak the truth inside
when, really, I only want to uplift
It may be the truth, but if you would
Please don’t call it my “gift”


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