a poem

In recent days, you've come to mind so often,
What do I bring to the relationship, my friend?

I am deeply impacted by this topic of concern;
Something, something, I have to learn.
Though its seriousness is not beyond reason, no sense
can be made of my dependence on your presence.

Yes, life may be grand, a gift, a blessed event,
But this broken mind, these sad thoughts, aren't heaven sent.

Death is a frequently visited subject.
It surfaces whenever I try to be perfect.
We've talked of abandonment in past sessions--
Is my letting go the most urgent lesson?

Yes, life may be grand, a gift, a blessed event,
But this broken mind, these sad thoughts, aren't heaven sent.

Death is ubiquitous, we just can't prevent it,
Thus, I plan for a convenient moment to end it.
Oh, Wretch that I am I plan a way,
a place, and watch for the right day.

Yes, life may be grand, a gift, a blessed event,
But this broken mind, these sad thoughts, aren't heaven sent.

What is my purpose? I'm quite run of the mill,
Each task and each role would be easy to fill.
Another more able to see needs, and reach out
Could replace me in every area I've no doubt.

Yes, life may be grand, a gift, a blessed event,
But this broken mind, these sad thoughts, aren't heaven sent.

my prayer--a rebuttal to this poem: Psalm 55:18 "He hath delivered my soul in peace from the battle that was (within) me..."