"My Confidence He Shot (Thank God!) "

His gift to me? Destroyed my trust
In doctors – skill’s okay, but must
Keep driving truck and make your choice,
Then stand behind, persistent voice.

They’ll balk, and scream, and stomp their feet;
If you’re First Nations, you will meet
That quiet sticking of the knife
Between your ribs, and loss of life.

So be-aware of world you’re in;
That quiet foe with unseen sin;
But then recall that’s you as well –
You’re part of what makes up this hell.

Of course we’re coasting on before,
We think that there will still be more
When down this hill the coasting stops,
And dust in hand is all we’ve got.

But more’s all done – we’re on our own;
There’s other mouths who want a home
With food for bodies, minds, and souls,
And they pursue their written goals.

While we are off in la-la-land,
The folks around don’t understand –
Rough ride ahead’s where we belong
For living way of chug-a-long.

So, thank You, Lord for opened eyes;
For sight restored – that we’re despised
By lots around the world these days;
And hope still – if we mend our ways.

Lord, that to me’s priority;
Like view of my community
I saw in poem-set before:
Equip equippers to do more –

So help the clergy-types, then Stu
Equip their folks such work to do,
So piece by piece world comes alive,
And we with other folks survive.

Thanks, Lord.

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