Many of us think we have it so bad;
and everything seems to go wrong;
tho we vacillate from happy to sad;
our lives are merely our song.
We made most of our life choices;
tho some; made out of desperation;
sometimes, due to other voices;
we think life is to be a vacation.
Many think of work, as a four letter word;
expecting that all things should be free;
even to a fool, such thoughts are absurd;
we become what we’re made to be.
A path, or journey, is set before us;
a long winding road we must travel;
it seems as tho destiny must abhor us;
for our lives, very often, unravel.
Tho many of us think, we can take no more;
we’re each related to the Master’s Son.
His life of perfection served as our encore;
that we all can be joined as One.
God feels the pain; each time we cry;
multiplied by a limitless population;
and God suffers death; each time we die;
and traded His pain for our salvation.
The oceans are filled with the Master’s tears;
over the prodigal children He’s lost;
He cried over and over; for thousands of years;
yet, still God paid the ultimate cost.