Oh LORD, as the fool that i am
i blame You for the plight i’m in
her personality of honor
and beautiful character
drawing me, awing me
yet all this i might be able to pass
the meek, the modest. the genuine,
can be found now and again
but LORD, You formed her―
how did You paint them??
her eyes??
how did You light them??
what can’t they see, for
they’re all i can.
she says they’re on You,
which is where they should be,
and i’m glad.
but, when she turns them on me
i shiver, and marvel.
from my point of view, and
for the sakes of young men
behind me,
consider easing up on the
depth when You color the
eyes of Your daughters
for me―too late―
i’m H.E.L.D.
