The runaway who stumbled into God's hands


Called

It's so cold in here and out there,
All these strange do is stare at me,
Reminds me of home,
But home is well lit, warm,
Only the people are never there to care,
Maybe I ask for too much,
But I'm here now,
I must have tough skin,
And hide the timid eyes,
These people smell fear as well as desperation,
But at home, you have to set an appointment for consultation,
And unfortunately, that is the only thing that is free,
There I have to bargain for the things other children take for granted,

I'm beyond "No one wants me",
Beyond "No one loves me",
I want peace of mind for a while,
All the other wants and desires will follow,
Living between places with no comfort,
I find myself here,
With no guidance or self-control,
I call upon you,
Trapped between neglect and self-pity,
I beg for your reassurance,

Surrounded in lost, we are,
Until we choose to be found,
It all begins with situations,
Paths treaded poorly,
With disasterous results, usually,
People try to save, but,
It's up to you, all up to you,
To take the steps, or this is all in vain,
It seems the hardest thing to do is call,
But in the end, it's the best thing you'll ever do,
He'll be waiting for you,
And everyone else,

the dancer moves without a trace,





Poetry by Saga
Read 426 times
Written on 2006-08-15 at 07:28

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Amanda K
love is where we find dearones.where we let loads rest and thougts take a break but home isn't the same if the one we cherish and love not there. I loved your poem,here.

Love,
2006-08-26


Kathy Lockhart
Your descriptive language places me there right there where you are in this poem. Those feelings of desperation, lonliness, fear. then you know who cares for you, you know who loves you, you know you comforts you. You turn to Him. You have told a story in parable form. I love this piece. Great Writing! :) kathy
2006-08-15