Hills
This was written on my Summer bike trip in June of 2001. It was the last day, and I hadn't biked much. I was just getting BACK IN the van, cause my throat was closing up and I couldn't swallow or breath very well
So many hills appear in my way
I’m loosing my momentum as I pedal
My knees are aching and my throat is dry
I feel no hand upon my back.
As I climb into the van
Shame starts to fill my soul
I feel bruised, battered and defeated
Why am I here anyways?
People always pass me by
As if I don’t exist
As if I’m not a part of this
Why am I here anyway?
Why do You feel so far away
From me right now
While others feel you always with them
Please tell me how
My emotions pour out on paper
Easeier to write then to explain
Will You send Your Grace to me
When I call out Your name?
© ~~ Erin E. Freriks – Date – 6/23/01
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