back to the start

i strain my soul through grates;
my mind is torn along a jagged ruler.
what are the things i want
that flow and ebb with every crevice
and slip and fall through cracks,
yet rise, and rise again.
what i lack i have in abundance;
yet i love my poverty,
and i revile in the filth outside the house.
how can i be poor, yet rich.
where is the flow of Your love,
to what end is Your love reaching?
i am blind, yet i can see,
the things found in my heart scare me.

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