In Spite Of What Life Brings To Me - Poem by Gert Strydom
God, in spite of what life brings to me,
in spite of how much money I earn, of what work I do,
in which residential aria I live, what car I drive
and if I have to walk or drive by motorbike
on the road that I travel, it is still at Your door
that I stand each day.
In spite of the words that I do write,
how bad or great they may be,
it makes me nothing else
than the human being that gets all things from you
and still I am bounded to You
for my light in this life's darkness.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You