I cannot tear at my skin
Though it should itch
I will not scratch
It might bleed, it might scar
But I will treasure my skin
It is beautiful, He made me beautiful
He will not approve if I tear at my skin in frustration
His word says I am fashioned in his image
He looks at me and says, there goes my most beautiful
His thoughts, his eyes trail my every move, every expression, every
desire, my every response, reaction, emotion
His Angels, they shadow me, I will not be harmed
Because when he looks at me, he says
There goes my everything
He owes me everything,
because he chooses to give me all he has, all he is,
He asks, '
What do you desire, even half my Kingdom,
let it be, I will give to you'
Every day, every hour, every second,
every moment, he is plotting for every good thing to be mine
Charting the paths ahead of me,
so my feet will not be bruised by stones
He says, touch not my beloved, my chosen one
So I will not tear at my beautiful skin,
For His grace is sufficient for me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem