Poetic Sermons
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Recycled
Recycled
Created for something great but never used for that
Existing more as a sewage pipe or a floor mat
Funneling the worlds of filth while it walked on me
Having no real clue what I was meant to be
Confused and insecure in the role I played
But I got comfortable with the whole charade
Not really living but it seemed to me
My life was as good as it could ever be
Over time I grew weak and worn
My will was broken and my pride was torn
In the wilderness of worry I wandered hopelessly
Like the world that I loved had no more place for me
Discarded and tossed away in a bin of despair
Buried deep in sin ready to die there
Just as I inhaled my last breath of shame
I faintly heard a voice calling my name
But all I could see was a most brilliant light
Then a felt an embrace so warm and tight
As I reached for the hand coming down for me
Everything went black and I ceased to be
Poetry itself couldn't express to you
How when I awoke I was brand new
Totally clean from the inside out
Impossible in mind but my soul had no doubt
Recycled is the first word that comes to mind
Same old container with no contamination to find
Created, destroyed, redeemed, and restored
Sold for a price only a King could afford
A true treasure hunter he must be
And somehow He saw value in me
The determination and planning it took to find me
The blood, sweat, and tears it cost to buy me
To sit me in a mansion and fill me with treasure
Put me on display and use me for His pleasure
Yes, recycled is the word I choose to describe
The newness of life I feel on the inside
The same old vessel with a brand new purpose
Honored and valued for His divine service
J. Moore
5/30/2016
Created for something great but never used for that
Existing more as a sewage pipe or a floor mat
Funneling the worlds of filth while it walked on me
Having no real clue what I was meant to be
Confused and insecure in the role I played
But I got comfortable with the whole charade
Not really living but it seemed to me
My life was as good as it could ever be
Over time I grew weak and worn
My will was broken and my pride was torn
In the wilderness of worry I wandered hopelessly
Like the world that I loved had no more place for me
Discarded and tossed away in a bin of despair
Buried deep in sin ready to die there
Just as I inhaled my last breath of shame
I faintly heard a voice calling my name
But all I could see was a most brilliant light
Then a felt an embrace so warm and tight
As I reached for the hand coming down for me
Everything went black and I ceased to be
Poetry itself couldn't express to you
How when I awoke I was brand new
Totally clean from the inside out
Impossible in mind but my soul had no doubt
Recycled is the first word that comes to mind
Same old container with no contamination to find
Created, destroyed, redeemed, and restored
Sold for a price only a King could afford
A true treasure hunter he must be
And somehow He saw value in me
The determination and planning it took to find me
The blood, sweat, and tears it cost to buy me
To sit me in a mansion and fill me with treasure
Put me on display and use me for His pleasure
Yes, recycled is the word I choose to describe
The newness of life I feel on the inside
The same old vessel with a brand new purpose
Honored and valued for His divine service
J. Moore
5/30/2016
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Recycled
Recycled