a note to the Lord

dear Lord,
i'm so cold, freezing naked without
a hand to rely on
a shoulder to cry on
a body to lean on
a hand to enlighten this heavy burden
a shoulder to strengthen myself
a body to give me warmth
to take this chill away
this is just an idyllic side of a broken, tattered and torn man, eventually trying to pick up the pieces, to start again from square one. it's your absolute right to comment, suggest, support, love, against, hate, spit, despise or even curse its content. but hey, isn't it also my absolute right to take or not to take them for granted? this is me.
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