You thought you could
Make it work;
But work doesn't excuse
Physical, mental, emotional
Or sexual abuse;
You bought time, were sorry
To end the inevitable.
And now that it's over
All over
You feel it's all come crashing
All 'round;
Like rain, pummeling
Grass-ridden ground.
But pick yourself up,
Ye weary soul, and fly,
Life and God offer much more
Than what 'tis to get by.
You deserve to be loved,
Not simply used;
Life is too short for flesh
And too costly for abuse.
You deserve God's crown
Of royalty
Not many more frowns.
Yes, pick yourself up, weary dear one,
Your life isn't ending--
It's only begun.