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Invisible, I wait and pray for peace.
Anonymous, and not so glad to be:
Melancholy, from which I’ve no release,
Lingers, choking my joy. Does no one see
I want to be noticed? Celebrated?
Satisfied my work has not been in vain?
Attention-seeking, unliberated,
Getting nowhere fast, it’s becoming plain
Whereas I seek a human audience
Everywhere, only to be frustrated,
Nowhere do I find instant recompense
Ready to be devoured, though long-awaited.
Obscurity instead remains my part:
Again I feel just stuck here on a shelf.
Regardless, Jesus, working on my heart,
Keeps calling me again now to Himself.

by Gwennon
May 24, 2013

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