My life has been spent,
With no action or comment,
To call my own,
Yet, I do not walk alone.
I await earnestly for the sun,
Bring forth darkness and I run,
Consumed by little but the vagueness of my life;
I feel no pain nor strife.
Yet there is a pain,
Of which I maintain,
The existence of another;
A fleshly kind of brother.
He walks and talks and sleeps
And eats and breathes and weeps
And in passion he keeps,
But little does he know, I get what he reaps.
All his days I shall follow,
No intention to borrow,
I won't care for his sorrow,
I want my share.
Don't blame me; it's not like I could care.
So watch me now, I'm watching you
Whatever you do, I'll do it too
You can feel,
And I will steal.
This is our curse.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Excellent!! You have captured and exposed sins grasp on the flesh. Yet there is more... inside ourslves our spiritual being that yearns to be free of this binding existance appears hopeless within this poem. We all feel this way from time to time. Thank the Lord for He lifted that curse at Calvary.
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