A Bit of Poetry

I’m not a prolific poet. In fact, most of my poetry came out of the angst of my teenage years. But it’s been a bad last few days, a stressful couple of months, and the words refused to stay inside me.

A thousand little stings,
A thousand little slashes,
A thousand little pieces of my heart are torn
away.

A thousand words do nothing
To heal the broken places,
A thousand thoughts can haunt me to the breaking of the
day.

A thousand weighted burdens
Resting on my shoulders,
A thousand tears spilled wishing that they’d all just go
away.

A thousand moments needed
To lay upon Your bosom,
To receive Your balm of healing that will all my pain
allay.