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The Story of Me
The world around me was wrong,
It wasn't keeping time or song.
Although, I couldn't see,
That the problem started with me.
It is true,
I saw the setting and it was clean.
Healing is a progressive thing,
Because the fling of the dead turns to spring.
My life had no song, nor dance;
When left me broken and in a trance.
I was blinded, but can we ever see?
Within me, will and desire lead me.
The thought came to me,
I can't fix myself.
Pride turned to humility,
And fear turned to sanctity.
My God, is now my God,
And my words have meaning in their truth.
No longer am I a sleuth, searching for my own salvation.
I am new.
Although, my book does not end,
Obstacles still find me,
And I find them;
I cannot pretend.
I am lent a hand by the opposite,
then I am bent toward it's will.
Though I may continue to fall,
The new fire in my heart lingers.
My chances are unlimited,
And my forgiveness is living.
I saw the difference and I believed.
I am new.
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"So, I guess we are who we are for alot of reasons. And maybe we'll never know most of them. But even if we don't have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still do things. And we can try to feel "