I am like the thistle, Lord
My thorns are sharp and long
They tear the flesh of passersby
I seem so fierce and strong
But you see me more as the bloom
My thorns don’t block your view
You touch the softest part of me
I blossom just for you
Oh Lord, please help my heart to bloom
And make my thorns recede
Allow me, Lord, to share with all
The love and joy they need.
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