Lord, somehow I've lost my way;
let bitter anger rule this day.
And as I lie here in my bed,
I'm shamed by things that I have said.
For every rude and hurtful word,
I'm sorry, Lord; I know You heard.
Now I hang my head in sorrow
And pray that I'll find peace tomorrow.
A body's harmed by sticks and stones,
Battered skin and broken bones.
A childhood chant got it all wrong,
Sticks are weak where words are strong.
Angry words can pierce a heart
And tear a friendship all apart.
Their lasting harm can make you weep,
Muddle your thoughts; disturb your sleep.
And even when remorse has won,
Those awful words can't be undone.
And so, I hang my head in shame,
There's no one else that I can blame.
Forgive me Lord, for I am weak.
I do not think before I speak.
I'm grateful for this lesson learned
And for salvation I haven't earned.
~ Linda Gleason ~
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