H
Haelo
Guest
For What it's Worth
A friend of mine once confided in me that she didn't know her purpose,
And therefore couldn't define her worth,
But from the looks of her, you'd never know it,
Prada bags sat at the bottom of her closet under Louie V's,
Feet bathed in shoes hot and fresh like scented candles,
Her hands moved to make gold and silver dance,
Fingers dressed in rings as if they were skin,
And for what its worth, she was as intelligent as she was beautiful,
Well designed mails proceeded better kept cuticles,
All in the effort to search for what she couldnt find,
Her Worth,
I told her she'd never find it in material satisfaction,
Because material satisfaction doesnt exist,
And sure money makes it easy to keep that closet full,
But why live so empty?
There's so much more to possess in your life than mere possessions,
I can never see the purpose of solely basing worth on being tagged by a name other than your own,
Why be Coached by a purse on how to carry your worth,
I'm not saying I can define what worth is versus what's worthless,
And for what its worth, I cant tell the difference for you,
No cliff notes for self-esteem,
But dont read this book between the lines, read before it,
It's called SELF-esteem for a reason,
With self as the predicated statement,
Why give more value to other's opinions and sacrifice happiness for acceptance,
You won't find peace and joy on a dollar menu,
Nothing worth while comes easy,
And yes, greasy fingers will let life slip away,
But I've found out my worth isnt wrapped up in raps or poetry,
Neither is it in the shiny cross I sometimes carry around my neck,
My worth is in the original Cross Carrier,
Putting my soul on a carrier and flying it to our father's palace,
He carried His cross with a battered back, how does jewelry stack up?
My worth is the respect I give Him in here,
It helps to learn the game from the greatest to have ever been birthed,
Both as a son and as a Heavenly Father,
Receiving presents on His birthday yet His presence resides in us as we're birthed and reborn,
Twice revered like Father's Day was His coming of age celebration,
Everyday, validating my existence by allowing me, to breathe,
Air, is a God given privilege,
Given to His kids as a gift to play with,
Everyday is Christmas,
The colors of the leaves scribble on the trees that God loves me,
Despite how often I've rebelled just by being human,
So why would I give power to purses as purpose, or presents, or pennies, or powders,
It's pointless,
And for what it's worth, there many moments in recent memory where I couldn't tell you what life's point is,
But I do know is my never depreciating value,
In Him.
A friend of mine once confided in me that she didn't know her purpose,
And therefore couldn't define her worth,
But from the looks of her, you'd never know it,
Prada bags sat at the bottom of her closet under Louie V's,
Feet bathed in shoes hot and fresh like scented candles,
Her hands moved to make gold and silver dance,
Fingers dressed in rings as if they were skin,
And for what its worth, she was as intelligent as she was beautiful,
Well designed mails proceeded better kept cuticles,
All in the effort to search for what she couldnt find,
Her Worth,
I told her she'd never find it in material satisfaction,
Because material satisfaction doesnt exist,
And sure money makes it easy to keep that closet full,
But why live so empty?
There's so much more to possess in your life than mere possessions,
I can never see the purpose of solely basing worth on being tagged by a name other than your own,
Why be Coached by a purse on how to carry your worth,
I'm not saying I can define what worth is versus what's worthless,
And for what its worth, I cant tell the difference for you,
No cliff notes for self-esteem,
But dont read this book between the lines, read before it,
It's called SELF-esteem for a reason,
With self as the predicated statement,
Why give more value to other's opinions and sacrifice happiness for acceptance,
You won't find peace and joy on a dollar menu,
Nothing worth while comes easy,
And yes, greasy fingers will let life slip away,
But I've found out my worth isnt wrapped up in raps or poetry,
Neither is it in the shiny cross I sometimes carry around my neck,
My worth is in the original Cross Carrier,
Putting my soul on a carrier and flying it to our father's palace,
He carried His cross with a battered back, how does jewelry stack up?
My worth is the respect I give Him in here,
It helps to learn the game from the greatest to have ever been birthed,
Both as a son and as a Heavenly Father,
Receiving presents on His birthday yet His presence resides in us as we're birthed and reborn,
Twice revered like Father's Day was His coming of age celebration,
Everyday, validating my existence by allowing me, to breathe,
Air, is a God given privilege,
Given to His kids as a gift to play with,
Everyday is Christmas,
The colors of the leaves scribble on the trees that God loves me,
Despite how often I've rebelled just by being human,
So why would I give power to purses as purpose, or presents, or pennies, or powders,
It's pointless,
And for what it's worth, there many moments in recent memory where I couldn't tell you what life's point is,
But I do know is my never depreciating value,
In Him.
