Thou Gav’st Thyself For Me

Recently reading Sydney Keyes, William Blake, Wordsworth, and my Bible I feel that when I came to write this poem I have been visibly influenced outside of the subject matter alone. Departing slightly from my usual style I am a little wary of how it comes across to you all. What do you think of it?

Called a name above all,
Disproved by what I do;
Where is my suffering?
My soul should bear a cross.

Where beats my giving heart?
There, with the unclean meats
And lies drunken with wine.
Might it come crawling home?
Wayward child, you’re welcomed,
But take your milk, be pleased
And wait till you are grown
Then that feast will begin.


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