The Lord has abandoned me,
Where is He I cannot find;
Afflicted hears not my plea,
For I am losing my mind.
He forgot on where I am,
Can a mother leave her child;
Can an ewe forget her lamb,
Stranded out in the wild.
Lack compassion from the womb,
How can anyone forget;
After buried in the tomb,
About having no regret.
I have inscribed on my hands,
And the walls within my heart;
Everything He commands,
I continually impart.
His builders rush and hurry,
Who desire to destroy;
Their rage in such a fury,
Devastate what they enjoy.
Look up as you look around,
As they together gather;
They come with joyous sound,
Changing attitude rather.
For as long as I shall live,
This is what the Lord declares;
Confess and He will forgive,
A proclamation one shares.
Your waste and desolate place,
And land is marked by downfalls;
It is indeed a disgrace,
So disgusting and appalls.
Yet as you still feel deprived,
Feeling this place is too small;
If and when Christ has arrived,
Praying to answer the call.
I was poor as a child,
No one ever fathered me;
Left me to grow up wild;
But have matured as to see.
Copyright © 2018 Richard Newton Sherrer
