I sat down to write a blog for the ChristianWriters.com September blog, but this came out instead. I’m not a poet by any stretch, but it encapsulates my inner battle while dealing with costochondritis for the last (almost) seven months. These are my thoughts just put down–they’re not meant for publishing.
Not My Decision
I sit alone in a prison
Not made by me
It was not my decision.
Aching body, jaw clenched
I wait alone in a prison
Not made by me
It was not my decision.
In a crowd, with smile pasted
I walk alone in a prison
Not made by me
It was not my decision.
Holding His Book, the tears flow
I read alone in a prison
Not made by me
It was not my decision.
Before the throne, I make my plea
To make my leave
To never be alone in a prison
Not made by me, for
It was not my decision.
His eyes gaze into mine
He takes my hand
To guide me from my prison
Not made by me, and
It was His decision.
You really hit it out of the park with that last stanza, Jami. I’m deeply impressed both with your emotional depth and your grasp of your situation.
Very nicely done, indeed.
Aww, thanks, Traci. I definitely have feelings of inadequacy where poetry is concerned.
Yawarakai, I’m glad that I may have given you a little motivation for your blog post.
I felt a little hesitant about posting this piece, but you both have given me a bit more confidence. God bless!
Jami, you may not write poetry on a regular basis, but you are a poet. This is powerful and relateable; people with all sorts of alone feelings will be able to connect with it, regardless of whether their prison is physical or other.
Wow. Very interesting. I am working on a blog post for next week (not the blog chain post) about invisible people and loneliness. I was trying to find things to go with and now I see your post.