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New Tales- Poetry, Song Lyrics, and the Like

Updated on November 4, 2009

About the Author

Bobby Hooten is a student at Lubbock Christain University. He has been an avid writer for most of his life, and has written many poems, numerous short stories, and has been working on a full length novel for nearly five years. As an English Major, he has been able to share his writings with professors and other students.

Bobby lives in Texas.


I have a debt.

I have a debt to God.

A God so powerful,

He put the spin on the earth.

He made a thousand galaxies;

Determined their lane and berth.

He created the watery depths,

Empowered the fiery maws,

Lit the glorious heights,

And bound them all by His own laws.

The winds and waves obey Him.

The demons flee before His voice.

The grave could not hold His bones,

Even when He entered it by choice.

Every sin I ever committed,

Every time that I failed Him,

He took along with him on the cross

And out of knowledge he threw them.

He sent me something.

He sent me a gift.

A gift so beautiful,

That diamonds envy her.

With eyes so deep,

That next to her the sea loses it’s luster.

Her voice is like velvet.

Her hair is like the purest gold.

Wherever she wills to walk,

I watch in awe her story unfold.

She means so much to me;

I want for her such more.

I try with my every power

To give her whatever she may want for.

I am amazed at her grace,

At the love to me she shows.

I marvel at her kindness,

And at the joy that from her flows.

From the goodness comes a dilemma.

This is my dilemma.

I look at her, the beautiful gift,

And He, the giver, divine and strong.

I see the love I have for each,

And I realize that something is wrong.

He I love out of thankful duty,

And she out of pure admiration.

He I serve humbly,

She I give my full dedication.

The two ask for my heart,

And I strive to give to each.

But how can I give two of what I have one?

That is too much of a reach.

The choice is set before me,

The question is far too clear:

Do I chose the God to whom I owe all,

Or the gift that I hold most dear?


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