Fill me up Lord, I want Your cup.

Must I wait, ’til The pearly gates?

Is this my fate?
Or must I just wait?

Not an escape
But feeding the hate.

Add fuel to the fire.
Causing muck and mire.

Never satisfied.
Bleed me dry.
This is not how I die.

Fill me up, Lord
I want Your cup.

It will take pain to get the gain.
But I won’t be slain.

Alive and vibrant.
Free to be me.

Who exactly,
Would that be?

The mom? The wife?
The daughter, the sister?

That little girl from before?
The one that they all ignored.

God You’ve made me.
Now instruct and guide me.

Tell me who I am.
Please show me where to go.
And tell me who to be.

No one knows.
Not even me.

Published by jenthefair

Go to my "this is me" section. You will read more than you ever wanted to know about me.

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