Chelsea Mann, 11:28

CHELSEA MANN

I’m always so tired. Oh, why can’t I sleep? The thoughts in my head swirl and puzzle the sheep. Like clouds, I’m surrounded, with fog in my eyes, Yet veiled behind vapor: my fear’s old disguise.

Old pictures flow freely, like film from a reel; Still, none can portray how exhausted I feel. Each day’s a new scene, a new shot, a new take. But as always, it’s scripted – it’s not real, it’s fake.

He watches and waits for the day that I’ll run, To arms of the Spirit and arms of the Son. And suddenly, one day, I’ll find myself there, Where sleeping means peace and a Father’s great care.