A Plea to Live

Stop! Watch! Turn on the light.
It’s got to be so fun.
No – please – Don’t leave me!
I’ll be the only one.

Someone locked me in here years ago,
And left me here to cry.
I’ve tried to scream for help,
But people just walk on by.

‘You could at least leave some air,
I’ve been dying to have a breath.
Lying in this box so long
Is going to cause my death.

I want to play a little game
And live a little life.
But no one lets me out of here,
So I lose again to the knife.

They cramp my every aching muscle,
And suffocate my dreams.
I wish there were a way to escape,
But the thread has ripped its seams.

6-14-1993 Monday
Written by Gail Brookshire

Dead and Dying, I Wish I Were

Dead and dying I wish I were.
In so much pain, my body hurts.
Screaming veins, pounding blood.
I feel as though I’m made of mud.
It could not help.
It could not aid.
The way I long.
The bed we’ve made.
What’s your reason?
What’s your cry?
What’s the point
In asking why?
You cannot see.
You cannot speak.
My body limbers,
Growing weak.
What’s the hurry?
What’s the rush?
To think of this
Is just too much.

12-9-1992 Wednesday
Written by Gail Brookshire

LEAKING WITHIN

Only through the page I write
Can I be expressed.
I’ve tried to love the others right,
But did not give my best.
I’ve tried to stop them walking away,
But somehow pushed them out.
I’d try to stop the memories,
But my heart would be in drought.
It’s just another way for life
To show us that we’re weak,
That though we swear we may be strong,
We always have a leak.
Understand my little cry,
Through which I cannot voice.
I’d try to walk away in vain,
But do not have a choice.

8-5-1990 Monday
Written by Gail Brookshire

My Silent Scream

My pen, my pen… it begs to cry,
Yet the empty lines seem to imply.
I do cry… I scream… and I scream,
By finding the words in only a dream…
A dream that cannot even find a way
To voice my cry or try to convey.
My heart… my soul… it searches long.
I cannot even write it in a song.
So many ghosts and waiting villains
Make it clear, “They’ll be no tellings.”
The flesh itself weakens fast.
Memories and strength don’t last.
And in the end who really cares?
God does… and every burden I bear.
If my mind is so drawn away from him,
Then he bids me, “Deal with them!”
And just as sure as he bids me to,
He lovingly whispers, “This is my testimony for you.”
So on and on I seek, as I pray…
Waiting for the words to come my way.

12-9-16 written by Gail

God’s Spoiled Brats

We whine and cry so much,
about so much to the Lord.
He gives and gives,
but we complain we want more.
Spoiled brats is what we are,
a stink among the roses.
We are no better or worse
than Israel or Moses.
God is so merciful,
so full of loving grace.
We run away from Him
only to beg for a place.
He is so faithful
to take us in again.
His love for us
will never end.
Thank God for His heart
and His willingness to rescue.
We are all spoiled children,
yes even me and you.

6-7-12 Written by Gail Brookshire
Inspiration: Jeremiah 3-5