Bradley Hathaway Poem by Lors Dilouley

I like to be gentle
more than boisterous.
But i find myself spouting,
shouting
out my thoughts on camera
before my mind can wrap around them.
A gentle and quiet spirit
is what i desire,
but my tongue runs like wildfire
-like one of those California ones that
moved with so much destruction, and killed people.
i truly want to be one after
God's own heart
but i don't know how to start -
i'm so very messed up inside -
crooked teeth i try to hide
i cannot turn around within my own soul
there're so many boxes of sin.
at least they're organized.
look pretty.
i wouldn't know where to begin.

can you help me until i get too old -
can You help me before i grow cold?