teach me humility oh LORD
i woke up this mornin feelin better.
a mockinbird was singin love songs in the wilma-ized tree outside my window.
saw my dear friends last night. ate mushed ziti and had a few laughs at my most recent endeavors.
fed, socialized, and carrying a box of easy mac under my arm i left, promising to return.
ate a breakfast of oatmeal and vitamins. had a couple cups of coffee, racing up 75 at 95mph; jimi hendrix blaring voodoo child.
tearing into Arvida Pkwy. only 15min. late to class.
in the door with a smile in my favorite name-brand floral pattern shirt, my hair... impeccable.
my favorite blue jeans, however tired and worn, looked better
on me than those rare day they are washed and fitted.
after all ive been through i can still smile and sport a timid pride.
had i forgotten my lesson so easily? yes. somehow i was found, caught up in the moment.
i rushed to finish my homework: 6 drawings, each presenting a different ink technique.
and by-joe those lessons hit me in the face like a space rocket shot at error.
my bottle of india ink fell from my easle i was working so feverishly on, sloshing and splashing that liquid disaster
all over the classroom; my classic jeans, favorite shirt, and smile ruined. replaced by the blushing embarrassement shown to
it's full splendor only in the rosey cheeks of The Hatz.
Humble pie gets to be a truly monotonous flavor after a while.
but alas i am a religious man, keep serving me piece after piece of the pie ive been forced to adore.
teach me humility oh LORD.
a mockinbird was singin love songs in the wilma-ized tree outside my window.
saw my dear friends last night. ate mushed ziti and had a few laughs at my most recent endeavors.
fed, socialized, and carrying a box of easy mac under my arm i left, promising to return.
ate a breakfast of oatmeal and vitamins. had a couple cups of coffee, racing up 75 at 95mph; jimi hendrix blaring voodoo child.
tearing into Arvida Pkwy. only 15min. late to class.
in the door with a smile in my favorite name-brand floral pattern shirt, my hair... impeccable.
my favorite blue jeans, however tired and worn, looked better
on me than those rare day they are washed and fitted.
after all ive been through i can still smile and sport a timid pride.
had i forgotten my lesson so easily? yes. somehow i was found, caught up in the moment.
i rushed to finish my homework: 6 drawings, each presenting a different ink technique.
and by-joe those lessons hit me in the face like a space rocket shot at error.
my bottle of india ink fell from my easle i was working so feverishly on, sloshing and splashing that liquid disaster
all over the classroom; my classic jeans, favorite shirt, and smile ruined. replaced by the blushing embarrassement shown to
it's full splendor only in the rosey cheeks of The Hatz.
Humble pie gets to be a truly monotonous flavor after a while.
but alas i am a religious man, keep serving me piece after piece of the pie ive been forced to adore.
teach me humility oh LORD.