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Filthy Rags

By , Eaton, CO

Reaching out for hope,

holding out my hands,
filthy, dirty rags is all that I am
Perfectly I tried to live my life,
but never was I ever perfectly right
Scars and bruises decorate my face,
and down it tears race
Broken, dirty, sinful
is how I’d be described,
this perfectness I put on is most certainly a lie
That’s why I look to Your scars,
for without you I could never walk so far
So to You I’m reaching out for hope,
holding out my hands,
even though filthy, dirty rags is all that I am




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