I'm His
God picked up a pen
Opened a book
Titled it as me
And I started to breathe
Draft after draft
I was created
Molded like a craft
Somewhere in my chapters…
I got lost.
Not by the fault of the author
But by my interests lacking in color
Black and white were my pages
Florescent were my stories
I was lost and found
No longer in pages of worries
For he picked me up
Found me
Made me
Came with me
So when this novel ends
At the end of the last chapter
On the last page
With the final words
Taking my final steps up from the world
Bowing without rage
I breathe,
And the final draft is done.
