Poetry

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Its four AM.have just taken up my writing pen,there's a word
spelled simile,may refer to you or me,i can be weak,wayward,or
selfish too,just the tip of the iceberg i must agree,used to be
quite energetic,most days now feel a bit pathetic,can't blame the
mirror for what i see,thanks be TO GOD,am as i be;although i
wobble when i walk,can't blame some people if they say,look at j;
that's okay its just their way,OUR HEAVENLY MOTHER,is my mainstay,
in my dream i explained that day,what WILL OUR SAVIOR,to me say j;
you touched that very painful bruise under my right eye,your left index finger should really sigh,repent of all sinfulness,farewell
for now,have FAITH,you should know why and also how.
Joe.

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