You think so much of me.
You think me to be nice.
You do not know the rage I carry,
And how I pay the price.
But that has got to stop right now,
As I finally come of age.
Thirty years too late I stand,
I storm throughout the rage.
The pain, the lies, the deception and games.
I have been the fool.
But I am not willing to take that blame.
I’m breaking the number one rule.
Silence is not my friend
When it allows you to crush my spirit.
You can try to reason why it is,
But I refuse to even hear it.
You see me on the ground crawling for help,
My soul has been wrung out.
But Christ my Savior has lifted me,
And freed me of guilt and doubt.
The evil are the evil,
And have no other name.
Regardless of what is said,
I will not carry their shame.
Your help is not sincere.
Your deeds are not unseen.
I suggest you give your please to Christ
Before the final scene.
Written by Gail Brookshire