Saturday, September 4, 2010

The Real Me

This world puts me on the spot to show what I can do;
But when I cannot measure up, my heart grows very blue.

Beauty, fame, wisdom, and renown;
All are so very far from me - I feel like such a clown.

Why am I different? Why do I feel alone?
With cynical insecurity my heart does indubitably moan.

They say I don't have what it takes for prestige and for fame;
Every work that I have done is all too drab and lame.

Walking down the street I feel so out of place;
What should I do? I cannot rest my case.

But one morning I read how special I really am;
The Maker of heaven and earth calls me His precious lamb.

In His eyes I hold true beauty;
In His arms I know my duty.

This crooked world knows not my inmost core;
The outside they only see, no, nothing more.

Yes, I lack in fashion's craze;
But all too soon I’ll finish this maze.

God holds me dear, I feel completely free;
From this moment on I'll bow to Him my knee.

I'm loved, so ne'er doubt;
Let the world's disoriented be the ones who pout.

I'll be different, but I'll never be alone;
Insecurity is to the wind; my heart will no longer moan.

Beautifully made, wonderfully forgiven;
All this doubt is finally shriven.

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