Good things come to those who wait?
The rich man grows richer still
The greed meets tragic end.
My life incased in sin.
Again I sit here, heart guiding hand.
My mind wants to spell a curse
I cannot curse Thy name
But this curse upon me now
Casts no spell of hope.
This gift in which You gave
How am I still without which to utilize?
Practice makes perfect,
but what if I already am?
I am still the impatient leaf.
Grant me Your love to set my quill at ease.