A Bedridden Weekend

He’s waited on me hand and foot what more could I ask of Him?

but that look. The look in His eyes

when he sees me cringe.

I’m strong. I fear no pain, but I believe He hates me

in agony,     and this has been nothing less.

I’ve lost all control of when and where i go

and worst, what I am able to do for myself.

The messes we’ve made        He cleans them up.

the messes I’ve made           He clears those too.

When I can barely move—

stand,     take one step—he bares the weight of us both.

He becomes my crouch.            I feel as though I am forever indebted to Him

for His gentleness alone.  In sickness. In health  shall He be a man of His words. . . 

I doubt it not.

Yesterday He bathe me: in His love,

bubbles, coconut oils, salts and menthol.

The pain barely subsided. Yet, I felt anew. A plethora of feelings

lead to a single tear I did not think he caught.

My pride was shook. He has all control

over my life at present, but I fear not.

‘Fore, after His hands had cleansed my flesh

I knew I would not—

could not succumb to this pain.



I love you King ♥

♥ Egypt


About Egypt English 308 Articles
Writer, Loveologist and Publisher, E. English was reborn and reared in Sapponi country, fell in lust with poetry, studied English Literature in Western Maryland, then learned the streets and suckled the bittersweet tits of Great Mother Piscataway. E's world evolves around the exercising of the power of love to help others live healthy, happy and healed lives filled with abundance and wealth.


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