Poem: Self-Signed


We say we want a Sign
Or is it to define
That we can be our Self
And leave God on the shelf?

We’d like Christ to be King
And yet still do our thing
Remain as our own boss
Avoid that rugged cross

The question we must ask
Is if we love our mask
O’er possibility
Of truly being free

For if to Self we die
Then to Him we draw nigh
In joy beyond compare:
The Sign we are His heir

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