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God created the me within,
He knitted together inside;
In my mother's womb could begin,
Until my birth for He would guide.
I will give thanks unto the Lord,
For being amazingly made;
And will remain in one accord,
For others that I will persuade.
All His works are miraculous,
Just like my soul, you are aware;
Worshipping Him is fabulous,
For there is nothing to compare.
My bones are not hidden from view,
He sees all the cracks as I age;
Knowing if I lie or tell true,
And within my life on which page.
I was being made a secret,
Skillfully woven in a womb;
And He has nothing to regret,
Except when lying in the tomb.
His eyes saw me as a fetus,
Every day is recorded;
Be a blessing and do not fuss,
Or you will not be rewarded.
For every day of my life,
Has been recorded in His book;
Experience from toils and strife.
Which He is fit to take a look.
It is not just things of the past,
Also those things that will happen;
Because your fate He does forecast,
Till when you lie in your coffin.
God knows my heart also does search,
In my mind for testing my thought;
If like a vulture on a perch,
Stalking prey I might have sought.
Copyright © 2014 Richard Newton Sherrer
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