A spill to a thought

Written by thoughts on a spill of water
Running freely with no purpose
for problems upon life seems no end to these steps takenÂ
Days upon time becoming another spill to every dropÂ
Looking up from side to side seems no endÂ
Repeatedly in faults no flavor to this
Stumbling even on fresh sand to the high
When as I remember the joy once felt in livingÂ
I ask on a daily basis....when will you show
My God My Good.
When will you show again...?

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