Sunday, October 23, 2011

My Crutch

Your cross my crutch—
I call it such

whene'er I talk
of your abode;
I cannot walk
upon that road

without its aid.
My debt you paid;

my pain you felt—
each sin a sore,
each doubt a welt;
you made my "more!"

into your loss,
my crutch your cross.

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