Crayons Can Melt On Us For All I Care

It is very cold. My father refuses to turn on the heat, so here I am, freezing to death. Yet, I can still type so it is okay. It has been wet, cold, and windy these past few days, and it is affecting my mood negatively. Sorry, I just wasted ten seconds of your life.

Work, Life, and Verbs...

Hmmm...homework, will you never leave me alone? I suppose in every phase of life there is work to be done, but it seems to me that homework is the one type of work that is always present. To be honest, I really should be doing my homework now. I have biology, geometry, and English to do, but I just do not feel up to doing them right now; I would much rather blog. It is ironic that I type these entries; yet, no one reads them. Oh well, I suppose God does.
Life. Not a sentence on its own, but it becomes meaningful when one adds the verb. It's funny; life does not have meaning until we act. Until we act upon our faith, and live out the life Jesus called us to.

-S.A. Manko

The Lucky One

Am I the lucky one?
I have never thought so
Yet, I eat food everyday
My closet is stuffed with clothes
Death has never come near me
I am healthy and strong
I am the lucky one
Yet, discontentment is my state of mind
And discontentment is where I'm content to stay
Worlds away from me, she lays
On the worn, rugged blanket
She can taste the moisture in the air
The heat surpresses her breathing
She feels another tear run down her dirty cheek
Knowing it will make no difference
No, she fears nothing could save her now
She grasps the blanket in her frail hands
Craving the affection of her mother
The affection of the one who nows lays in the ground
Memories torture her night and day
Imprisoned in a house she will never leave
Sold by her father
And tortured by men with cold eyes
She holds her head in her hands
Pleaing to the silence
To be rescued, to be loved
And she asks,
"Why wasn't I the lucky one?"
Surely luck has nothing to do with it
But instead a loving God
Who gives and takes away
A God who is waiting for me
An ignorant, complaining child
To see all I have been given
And go to the broken hearted
And bind them up
So when they, when I,
Lose everything on this earth
We may not lose the One who truly is everything