Poetry

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I'm tired of pretending, Here is where I stand.
Naked in your presence Lord, Reaching for your hand
Stripped of every mask and secret, that i tried
So hard to keep, Ashamed of who I am, yet so vulnerable
And weak.

Take my hand dear child, even though you can not see,
All the time I knew your secrets and I longed to set you free
Those high protective walls, that you hid behind in fear, now are Shaking , crumbling, as you shed those healing tears. Walk with me Precious daughter, in my protecting love, I am always right besides You, as I watch you from above.

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