Poetry

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If I ever wanted to brag,
I would not ever be a fool;
Because it is kind of a drag,
Actually it is like being cruel.

For bragging is really a sin,
As it would cause you to be vain;
That is corrupting you within,
For causing agony and pain.

But I would be telling the truth,
And that I would never make you;
Think that I was being uncouth,
To be blunt what I say is true.

You may never think more of me,
Than what you may have seen or heard;
Especially of dreams I see,
From revelations in the Word.

To keep from being conceited,
I am forced to deal with visions;
They are constantly repeated,
Of complicated divisions.

It divides by confusing thought,
That Satan wishes to torment;
And unto the Lord I have sought,
That is causing me to lament.

I begged the Lord to take away,
Should His kindness be all I need?
For I am so weak and could stray,
No longer to be a good seed.

But His power is the strongest,
Whenever I would become weak;
Persevering at the longest,
Whenever I would pray to seek.

Who are you in having to say,
There is no blessing to be meek;
For since I do trust and obey,
Being strongest when I am weak.

Copyright © 2015 Richard Newton Sherrer

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