Filthy pearls.

 Jumpers, handbags, coats and shoes,

       Dirt and ruin, overspilling loos,

           I want, I want, how much can I get?

               When I see broken faces, I am filled with regret.

    A message on facebook, oh look a new tweet,

       Thousands of babies with no food to eat.

         Tesco value meat, yuck, I won't eat that,

          While in Indian slums they dine on a rat.

     A Heat mag subscription, Cosmo is what I need,

        So many desperate and capable yet unable to read.

           I throw things away without any thought,

            Others treasure the rubbish of what I have bought.

      Oh yes I am "kind", really think that I'm helping,

          The bleak reality is, I am lazy, I do nothing.

            Jesus please help me, Lord I so want to be,

  

               A girl who thinks of the lost ones and not only me.

Silly little pastor.

My heart it feels wrung, oft it is broken,

For others it hurts, it must remain open.

Is this what it's like to gather up sheep?

My crook stops them wandering, but my insides, they weep.

Rest comes not at night, strife haunts me through day,

As I watch for the wolves, stay away, I pray.

Entangled with others who take up my care,

My back is left open, with nobody there.

Pain raw and stabbing, sometimes consuming,

Acute absence noted, my soul it is groaning.

Am I not enough? What I've done is forgotten,

Perhaps not the cure, maybe I am the problem.

Where are my eyes? They look to self,

Short-sighted, I am foolish, I have such wealth. 

For when I fall down, One gathers me in,

He's the true shepherd, I must follow Him.