---I ask that if you are reading these, that you go and read the original psalm for yourself, before you read my rendition, and let the words of your Maker soak deep into your bones.---
Papa, my head is not huge and my hands do not squander.
My heart is not prideful and my eyes don’t wander.
I try and only do what I see you doing.
And at the end of the day
When all of me has bee spent
I tug on your hand
And ask for a bedtime story.
For all I want to do now
Is hear your voice
And feel you near
As these tired eyes
Begin to
Droop.
