Prone in the dust of broken dreams
My help is gone, or so it seems

The gleam of youth, the eager trust
Is now a wreck of mud and rust

Aspiring to the ideal plan
But now a sad and broken man

Yet still I trust my Father's care
His goodness will still lead me where

The days are bright, the outlook sunny
A land that's filled with milk and honey

For He is good, His mercy lasts
And swallows up my pain and past

My youthful zeal will be renewed
No crime to pay, no debt accrued

A loving glance from His bright face
Will all my angst and care erase

And so I plunge ahead in faith
To new adventures, grand and great

I will not die, I will not perish
For He is near, will watch and cherish

---

Bob Westbrook 8/13/03
Listen to author's reading of this poem