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There is a Devil on my Bootstrap

I stumbled to the finish line today

The cheers from the crowd

Transformed into cries of despair

When i thought it was over

I was told to keep going

And i looked at those much braver than myself

And said,

“there is a devil on my bootstrap.”

Their faces contorted,

Like a piece of paper draped over a flame,

their compassion ashed into the meloncholic mist

And rested upon my head,

Forming a tarnished ring

Where a champion’s wreath should rest.

Rather than hearing, “well done , thou good and faithful servant,”

When i gushed, “lord, LORD!”

They said, “i never knew you, depart from us.”

In my time of malnourished need,

Exhaustion from walking two miles,

When i could have walked one alone

I felt betrayed,

My own personal Judas, a wolf in christian’s clothing

Turned the other cheek, and exposed the lines of their face

And it etched a jigsaw compassion upon my heart.

Rather than hold my head high

I bowed my head, closed my eyes

And prayed that this burden

Would be loosed from my heels,

Giving strength to these weary thighs,

So that the remainder of this journey

Would heal my hope to attain that prize.

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About R. Ward

A husband, father, teacher, and struggling man of God.

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