How small Am I?


A sense of  compidence may swell my head

Too heavy to hold it up I shrink it as a pall of self-consciousness envelopes me,

Me, a letter to the Dead letter office, all wrinkled crushed and mute.

I cannot read me, do not have the skill to shrink my head further –

To preserve it, an atrocity in a Mason Jar.

Pride goes before a fall, and never so much as my crest fell, just now,

It’s feathers broken and torn.

I would fly to the slip streams, soaring to build ego up, tell of my great and humble deeds,

They have not happened, save in my heavy head,filled with liquid lead,

I drop me to the ground the weight, unwieldy, my nose touching the dust, not quite a prayer,but definitely wipe my face.

Let my courage be tempered by fear to remember I am lowly ,

God is with me.

Dear Lord, show me who I be.

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