For each day when we are locked down, not so free to leave, sometimes it hurts so bad it almost makes me not believe, but for each day I pray, still upset in some way, but for now gives me the time to write a poem each and every day.
For I want to cry, scream and shout but I keep my snout shut, because we must not pout.
But still I cry, for what I have broken, but the Heavenly Gates that is the token, for what is gone lost or stolen, will be fixed and returned in heaven and may it be golden.
My love for our God will never stray but like the lost sheep he will find me some way then for he has found me and I him.