My stream of life has picked up debris;
for the riverbed is littered with trash;
I can’t find words to set myself free;
while my body’s dissolving to ash.
Words won’t come; the waters muddied;
mind is not thinking very clear;
no facts align; other options, not studied;
all futures comprised of fear.
Emotions overcome all serious thought;
frustrations, angers, and blame;
losing all sight of what should or ought;
depression has become its name.
Feelings like these, intermittently come;
the debris of a failed, fallen land.
Discard them all; and come together as one;
for that’s what the Master planned.
Some consider climbing out of life’s stream;
emotional stress has assumed command;
they started their life out, with their dream;
but life hasn’t gone like they planned.
The Master knows us, better than we;
and promised never to leave our side;
for only He knows what we can be;
but sometimes we run away to hide.
We weren’t meant to avoid our trouble;
we each have to face them some way;
when we lack faith; problems double;
and are returned to us, another day.