Lord, give me the insight
To
comprehend the many
Dilemmas
I face,
And
a sense of awareness to
Wear
like a friend
To
keep my feet firmly in place.
Gasping
for wisdom and
Searching
for vision to
Foresee
the end of the race, while
Winging
a prayer and
Completely
dependent on
Copious
eminent grace.
Swift,
level judgement,
My
cold sober friend,
Delivered
in haphazard haste,
Considered
but little and
Caught
in the middle
Can
only bring heartache and waste.
We
strive for perfection
In
shards of perception
With
steps we can never retrace.
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