Report Card

I’m giving you something you don’t deserve (grace) You never hold on to my scriputres you only stand idle and stagnant in your place. You put down my words and with others  you replace my testimony with melodies of a foreigner’s taste.

In the backseat, a drawer, your nighstand, you always want a miracle, but you keep binding my hands. Forget my words and you want a favor. I said I have mercy and grace, I’m sorry God is not a now a later….

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