It may be true, for all I am aware,
That God is Love: His love is everywhere;
That Christ, His Son, was born, and died, and rose
Again; that nothing here that breathes or grows
But of His love can claim a rightful share.
And yet–consider now my black despair,
A burden sometimes more than I can bear;
Have I been overlooked? Perhaps–who knows–
It may be true.
But then, what have I done to pay the fare,
That He should pause and listen to my prayer?
Can I, in truth, expect relief from woes
If I affect an independent pose?
Have I then, Father, been a bit unfair?
–It may be true.
by Ray Romine Friday, January 21, 1944
