Lord oh Lord, please help me.
I am tired,
The kind of tired neither sleep nor coffee can help.
How do I go on?
How can I live?
My bones and muscles cry out in pain,
I eat while praying I won't be sick,
but it's all in vain.
My body is weak,
my system battered.
I pray to you and read your word,
I remind myself of your countless promises.
You say you'll be my refuge, a safe shelter,
but when Lord? When?
How long will I suffer?
To you, do I even matter?
~Liz Austin 2019
Born and raised in Upstate NY, Liz is a freelance writer. She has written for websites, blogs, and magazines for the last 10 years. She also acts as a proofreader and beta reader for several authors, all the while working on her first book.