Before me waits an open door,
And yet I seek the window pane.
I’d rather soar than feel the floor,
I live to fight against the grain.
Black sheep among a flock of snow,
I stand apart from all the rest.
I give no thought to status quo,
But hope one day to pass the test.
Can I find vim to stand my ground,
And in my faith remain so strong?
Can I hold fast to morals found,
And chase the beat of Heaven’s song?
The hands of time alone will tell,
As day by day the pressures mount.
Will I give in to what they sell?
Will I lose sight of what does count?
What I’m Reading: