When life is routineSame old-school,Busy strangles timeto thin strips of meaning,Connections of place and peopleemaciated to shallow smiles;Hiding realities and struggles,and when I spend timewith my GodI bringbubbles and candyfloss,Lies and platitudes,Small bits of me,A house of hidden nothingdressed as a fashion runway. Can I step back?Can I kneel and wait?Can I stop to be me?What do I fear? Can I hear?the call to confess Bring you the real,In your truthagree with youthat I am wrong,Bring you the sin,that you desire to wrapin flowing forgiveness arms,To pure cleanse,Infusing love that I cannotbe separated from. The paradox!In confession to youIn giving self to youI am freed soul and mind. Free and forgivenby my King and Saviour!