I stood and I looked behind at the road
Of brambles I had tread
And wondered how
My feet could bleed
That much
And I not dead
I counted up the leaden loss
I weighed each mile and what it cost
How still I seemed to be
A little child at sea
All I had I gave to Thee
All I had I gave to Thee
even though, imperfectly.
mary angela douglas 31 march 2024
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem