I was.


In a world full of Martha’s, I was a Mary.
In a blur of doers, I was simply–me.
When they were too busy to stop and smell the roses, I was showering them with drink.

I, I have come to this place in my life.
I’m full but I’m not satisfied.
This longing to have more.

Love sleep, but me— losing sleep.
I was. And, now I am so different.

 

 

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *