A Poem for Me

This might sound funny, but I'm writing a poem for me. I'm giving this one to myself. Why not? I'm a friend to myself. Sometimes, I'm too hard on me. I don't give myself a break, I give myself no mercy, I punish myself, I'm my own worst judge. Since when did Jesus die a second time and made me god? What friend am I? Don't I know that I am a good person and I am worth all of the goodness that comes my way? I haven't done anything wrong. Why do I think I'm guilty all the time? Tell the jury to go home, they're not needed here. I think I'm a pretty good person. I care a lot, especially for my Mom and my friends. I have someone to lean on, someone I can talk to, someone that loves me more than anything in this world, He even died for me. He took all my sins away and even brought my place in Heaven! I can tell Him anything I want and He will not condemn me like I so often condemn myself. Why can't I see me for who I am? I'm beautiful I tell myself. Like it or not, I am. My friends think I'm awesome. They depend on me because I'm dependable. You want me to prove it? O.k. I will. One friend wrote to me and told me, I am a sunshine during her days of gray clouds. Another friend says, may all my hopes & dreams come true for as my friend, she's wishing for the best for me. My household loves me enough to even want me in their household, and this might come to a shock, but the Bride of Christ household loves me too. I seem to remember someone getting mad at me because I didn't like myself. How dare I don't like someone she loves so deeply! I can go on and on if I want me to. Oh, and get this, my mother loves me. Beat that! So I better wise up, and I don't mean to burst my bubble, but I love me!


                                                                For Vicky a.k.a. Sunshine