Fall to my Knees 

Two poems by Buffie Hobbs

Imperfectly

I stand before you
Imperfectly
Chasing a man 
Whom walked righteously 
I've sinned,
I've fallen,
I've failed,
I've became the epitome
Of whom he gave his life to free
To teach me 
To Show me
To release me
From the sins I've committed
He died so they could be remitted
So I could stand before him
And tell him I tried
To live perfectly
To Be an example
A guiding light
A fire igniter
For the souls that have lost their way...
But it is me that is lost
Broken,
Filled with pain and hatred
Waiting for that light to find me
To reignite the fire 
That once consumed me
Pushing me forward
To love and live as the example 
he wanted me to be.
I stand before you
A sinner
fallen angel
A darkened soul....
I walk this earth imperfectly
Chasing the man 
whom walked righteously...

Imprints in the Sand

Like the ocean erases the imprint
Of Our footprints in the sand,
Time erases the memories
Of the places that we stand.
We are all just finite,
In this infinite world we live,
But we try to runaway
When the maker pays his bid.
We are all just born to die
We can't make it out alive,
So while we are present
For perfection shouldn't we strive?
He lived his life perfectly
So we could see the way,
He taught us to be kind
And make a difference every day.
Give our lives to helping
And try to understand,
That everyone, from time to time,
Needs a helping hand.
Don't forget to give your love
To those who matter most,
Serve your dinner to the weak
And be a gracious host.
Only people that we impact
Will remember our name,
So make a difference in the lives
Of the players who lost the game.
We are all just newborn souls
Searching to find our way,
In this temporary world
In which we can not stay.
We walk amongst the living
Ieaving imprints in the sand,
And time will forget us
When the dealer plays his hand.

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Buffie Hobbs says: I am a poet striving to be published. I write from my heart about real life pain, love, darkness, strength and hope for the future. I have suffered from PTSD from having seen my mother murdered, losing my brother and being oprhaned when I was 9 years old. So I write from the dark places that have consumed me for most of my life, but I have healed through my poetry. I want to share my story of loss, suffering and healing with you and your readers in hopes that they too can find their voices and inner strength.