The Conversation

You talk to yourself. You talk to God. People talk to You. I am inspired and unsure, and as usual, I am trying to let you in a little bit
Bags lying open,
She has spoken,
She’s staying home again,
For another dead end,
Those chips were ready,
They were growing stale,
Yes, that paragraph is about the past,
About mom coming home and then
Leaving again, but it is more then just a picture
That it paints. Now we live like we are always moving,
And so am I, but here is why, no its just now that I am
Concerned with,
I saw you in everything,
You used to make this heart sing,
I was younger then myself when
You came in,
You came in like furniture,
You called it the future,
Now you are sitting down,
Now you are staring me down,
Now I am hell bound
And no one makes a sound,
The drums are sitting in the corner,
The despair from the repair,
Everything we own is breaking,
All of the world is sinking,
And I am just holding on,
Holding on really tight,
Trying to get it right,
Fall is here, you aren’t,
You were always a was
And now I am struggling world,
With the conversation,
With my situation,
I am to blame,
For the lame,
Cause I got no faith,
Cause I got a mat I am still
Sitting on,
Do I believe or do I just watch?
Do I live like its never guaranteed,
Or am I the guarantee?
I am caught between choice
And destiny,
I am stuck between the past
Abuses and the future colors
That don’t appear in the bible?
The conversation is a sugar rush,
A hot Pumpkin Spice Latte,
Anything I have to do to not
Face You,
Cause I hide all the time,
Hide from You,
When love is pouring out,
When the rafters are falling,
And I am not sinking,
I don’t owe you anything,
Yet I got nothing in the bank,
Yes, I was in love, and more then once,
But I used to live a little simpler,
Jesus was at the center,
And the center was carried with me
No, you can stop reading cause I know
You do anytime Jesus gets a shout,
But who really cares if you care or not,
Or if I mean what I say?
Its in crayon, and the colors are bland,
Every word will add up,
Every hidden Friday night will
Be made right,
The conversation is bathed in
Love and measured in justice,
It is not intention that makes you,
Its results,
The conversation is: where does grace
End and action begin,
And where are we all anyway?
Do I just talk of change?
Or do I try to change?
Cause poverty is catching up with
Me, and I mean the bad kind,
The kind that makes you full
And rich on yourself,
No, church, this house needs some
Treasure for you to measure,
Much riches, much more then,
Just a conversation,
Or just a conversation,
This life is broken,
Its still breaking,
This heart is out of order,
This heart has no more quarters,
But it beats on, it continues with
Anyone willing to stop and listen,
I talk a big game, but I want to
Never not stay the same,
Change is more light then yesterday,
And yesterday has already faded,
Light it up, again,
As long as this is,
Let me live for You again,
That is the..

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