Here are a few little poems I sketched out in my book. They don’t have titles. They’re just little ditties if you will, free writing.

1

You’ve stained me with that, which cannot be washed away.

Blood of the lamb covers my life through death.

Though I was not there,

“present” I know I was

in the mind of a savior.

2

A modern day Thomas sounds good to me,

But I’d rather live the joy that comes in belief.

Picture upon picture of smiles I’ve shown

Pay no penance to the days I’ve blown.

Doubt kills more of me

Than any weapon could.

“Are you really there for me?”

Where’s the trust in which I once stood?