Any genuine attempts to interpret, criticize, or discuss the poem will be permitted, despite the opinion of the poster; but trolling or nonsense will be deleted. Good-natured jibes will be permitted; but obnoxious brutality will be happily deleted. 

Sometimes I Feel

Sometimes I feel like a motherless child
Sometimes I feel like a mad dog gone wild
Sometimes I feel like a sack full of sand
Sometimes I feel like a plague on the land

I used to feel like a doll on a string
Not good, in this world, even for anything
Held by some hand that forgot I was there
An unworthy soul for whom no one could care

A spirit unable to set itself free
A mind unprepared to confront mystery
My ears couldn't hear and my eyes couldn't see
The path I should walk in what this life should be

I thought love was passion and that grace was gold
I thought truth was logic and that what I was told
By the wise of this world was the truth, but you see
They are blinded to truth by their own apathy
By their love of this world, separation from God
And they can't even see their hands covered in blood

A motherless child knows God's love is the best
A mad dog won't follow the rules of the rest
A sack full of sand binds cement that is strong
A plague on the land brings peace before long

A motherless child from God learns the truth
A mad dog won't listen to men without proof
A sack full of sand doesn't care what is said
By those whom a plague on the land will strike dead

A motherless child has more time to preach
A mad dog might even preach on the beach
The sand in an hourglass measures the time
And a plague on the land serves to improve the clime

You may be motherless, but loved you are still
You may be mad, but your soul can be filled
With wisdom and love that He offers today
So that his plagues will not sweep you away

So when He speaks you should listen with care
When He whispers the truth, then his Spirit is there
You can hear what He says as you sit in his hand
And remain in his peace when the plagues sweep the land.