We write our stories and tell our tales,
Then hope someone approves.
We share of life and talk of love,
And pray emotion moves.
We pour the last drop from our hearts,
Till nothings left inside.
They shouldn’t matter but they do.
Opinions far and wide.
The rules are cast in stainless steel,
And vary, dare you not.
So many that our keystrokes reel,
Entrapment is our lot.
We’re told it’s just to help us write,
To better our technique.
To say what’s right or what is wrong,
The judge is the critique.
A life long story I will write.
A chapter every day.
And I’m reviewed by everyone
I meet along the way.
Sometimes they say I’ve done so well,
And other times not good.
As long as I don’t critique them,
As my human nature would.
My Lord and Savior has some rules.
But one stands above all.
To know Him in a personal way.
To hearken to His call.
To enter into Heaven’s gate,
Without your sinful debt.
Talk to Christ, it’s not to late,
His standard has been set.
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