At the End of the Day

At the end of the day...

My "friends" take off their masks to reveal upon me a monstrous vengeance.
My "true" friends take a knife to my heart, showing a complete disregard of my friendship as they tell me how much they don't respect me.

I lay down my head and cry out to God that He will forgive me of the mistakes that I had made, mistakes that I can't bear to reminisce over, mistakes that my "friends" feel are unpardonable. I pray that, as the sun rises the next day, I can be a better person, that I can make less mistakes, strive for perfection, love Him a little bit more, trust Him a little bit more. I pray that the words that seem to be an effluent out of my mouth will please Him. I pray that I can be the best person that I can be, that, with God's help, the feeble person that I am without Him, will find unimaginable success in this overwhelming world of knives and blood. I pray that, with His guidance, I can make an impact on those around me, that just by living with God and under His standards, I may be the powerful witness He needs me to be.

As dawn strikes, the sun rises, and I silently send prayers to heaven, that the new day would be exactly that---a new day, full of new hope and vigor, esteem and strength. But, at the end of the day, only God can save me from the pit of fear, shame, hurt, and sorrow that the day's events have brought upon me. Only God can rejoice with me about the favor and blessings, the happiness and joy that His love has sent for me.

I will never live up to the standards that man sets before me. I will never meet the incomprehensible principles that my "friends" and family attempt to force upon me with each new rising and setting of the sun. I will never, and I'm not about to try.