Old Washrag

I am not flawless by any definition, 

a man's journey can only be seen by the scars on his hands.

I have worked, bled, and mended my wounds.

I have felt depressions' smooth cold hands 

whipped the tears from my sister's eyes

and cried myself to sleep

But through sorrow and death and darkness I have been made strong

I stand tall knowing I can take all this world sends at me

I am a beacon of light and joy in a night dark as pitch

I am here for you and any other to come and wipe your dirt on

I am a counselor.

Flawless is not what I was made to be.

formed by Gods plan I was sent to be the old washrag for a troubled souls heart

Used and reused I clean the minds and make new the products of this earth

I am not flawless in the heart

but in my soul and action

standing strong for all who need me to be