I am Tired

I lay on my bed, arms spread out like wings.

And there, I cry tears of fears and worries. 

I pray for a change; to be blameless and pure

And somewhere He sits, eyes fixed, plan secure.

He knows what He wants.

Yet, I hear no response.

I am tired.

He sees as I cry, hands high towards heaven,

“Lord, take these feelings. They sting. I’m sore and

They are too heavy for me. Please take them.”

Somewhere He watches, continuous of my pain.

He knows His own Will,

Yet the pain goes on still.

I am tired. 

I hear a story. Ah me! It is sad.

My sister sits, hurt, inert. I am mad.

I cannot sit by. God, why does this man

Walk free after what the glut did to my friend?

He knows of her sorrow.

And when it’s tomorrow, 

“I am tired.”