Oh Father, who am I to complain?
I worry so much of the time here in my comfort zone.
All seems to be going wrong. I wish not to bother thee.
My friend Ann is moving on, as she should.
My heart is broken.
I thank thee for our years of friendship
And most of all for my beloved husband. When things go astray I tend to be selfish.
We care only for ourselves.
Who Father, am I to complain? Father hear my prayer for our world.
It scares me so.
I thank thee Father for all your love. Who Father am I to complain?
When I think of how you suffered
What you have done for all mankind
Who then am I to complain?
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Comments about this poem (My Lord by Marguerite Treon )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
(563 BCE - 483 BCE)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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