Sometimes I get to thinking of the future,

You swore to me that your grace would last,

You have kept right on loving without demur,  

Now I am puffed up, and your grace is too vast.

Sometimes I get to thinking of the past,

How have waited and suffered through guilt and dirt,

Before drawing upon your grace, which is too vast,

I get filled with loathsome thoughts, do I matter?

Sometimes I get to thinking of the present,

And feel like a worthless, good for nothing idiot,

Though am grace* and know am highly favored,

That am somebody and a highly treasured child.

I choose what I do with care,

My options are few but then I still fail,

To please and even love you my way,

I will just do what you say.

How come you call me yours?

How come you are  bothered with my heart at all?

I know that I am forgiven but don’t know how,

Will just trust what you say.

I fight against the demons, but have to do it possessed,

Keep raising me in grace, put me where I won’t fall,

I leave the fighting to you, as any child would do,

Won’t trust my inner feelings anymore, they come and go.

*grace=mumo, my middle name.