Surrender The Wrong.
A day of gratefulness, A day of gracefulness. A day of nerve racks, A day of mud puddle in sacks. Don't tell me you have an excuse. To lose the weight, and try to abuse. Don't try to talk me into drugs. Don't try to tell me it's good to smoke. Look, I know you think you're cool. But look at me, I think you're a fool. I'm a writer, as you can see, I know that perceptive isn't really reality. I don't know who you think you are, but I know you're not what you truly are. Because the pressure lies within yourself, and the ones around. Don't be the girl on the side of the rebounds. Because you think doing something sinning will make you look better. And because you think it's cooler for you and that guy to get together. Because life isn't what you would call fair. Because you want to have your opinions declared. I don't know what you're thinking right now, reading this poem and you're probably wondering 'how? ' But there's a point in life, you know, when all but everything matters but to God what you show. He's the true one to give you the directions. Not the person of your trust, or someone that you lust. The only person that can help pursue your dreams is the one thing that people seem to questionably beam. Jesus Christ, our one and only savior. He's the one that knows your behaviour. Even from the outiside-in, he's the one that's in the within. He should be our soul, He should be our 'man.' He's the one that can make us really men. Although you might think that this is dumb. That he doesn't exist, and that's the total sum. Up against the sky He is, watching over us and lieing within. We are just the people that need to touch souls. He's the one that can patch our holes. We make mistakes, we sin like we're already in hell, but one turn around can take us back. Forgiven we are, but guilted we still are. God, please forgive the ones. Just like the conceited ones. Including me and everyone else, we know our wrong, and know our right. We know you're the only one that can make us bright.
by Anne Loo