When I wish things are different, they’re not.
When I focus on that habit, I can’t stop.
When I see evil, every scenario is a plot.
When I wish it were easier, then it’s not…
When I wish I were tired, I can’t sleep.
When I think about my failure, I can’t eat.
When I look behind me, I’m in defeat…
Lord, is this really the way you meant my life to be?
No.
Somehow, I can’t make myself believe it.
In my “gut,” I know there must be a reason why…
Thoughts of that elusive dream flood my eyes with tears-
Each time my mind lingers upon the possibility…
There’s more than this reality here, for me.
Lord, the time has come for me to ask YOU-
Is it true, or merely vanity?
