You think I’m a man
who follows a plan.
Well, sure, I suppose
I have some of those.
But I am at heart
a flawed work of art.
For I am a story,
a proof of the glory
of Him who forgives,
who died and yet lives,
whose loving embrace,
delivers His grace.
When I’m at my ending,
worn out past the mending,
says Doc, “Pull the plug”:
Just give me a hug
and turn loose of me.
I’ve somewhere to be!
Copyright ©2020, Paul H. Harder II
This poem is licensed under a Creative Commons
BY-NC-ND 4.0 License.
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