There's a hole
Deep down, inside of me
With things buried, so none will see
Until you brought your excavation team.
You,
my emotional Indiana
With your whipping wit and musty sense of style.
Boldly going where no man has gone before...
And for good reason.
Inside of me, you found
the curious, bizarre, and strange
the depressed and the angry
And you took it all.
You listened
You laughed
You cried
Uncovering treasures amid ashes
Decoding my soul's hieroglyphics
Reminding me, I have a place.
To you,
My worth is great.
With you,
My joy is full.
And because of you,
I am indebted forever.
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If you're referring to Jesus Christ throughout this entire poem I just have to say: I like thinking of Jesus with a "musty sense of style." :)
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