The Grand Slam

Im slamming through these rhymes like it means nothing,

Some say its a crime, yet im not doing the time.

Some say its intense, but I see it as common sence.

Some say it comes from the heart, yet they dont know the start.

The gift comes from God.

No need for applause, no need for nods.

All I need is my father up in heaven,

But don't mark me with just a number, yeah seven.

I am his treasure, so don't look at me with pleasure,

Instead try to measure,

How much he protects me, and loves me.

Yeah I bet you'd agree.