1937 Living Dust Bowl

I'm waiting for this horrible door to close.
The one that allows all the dust in.
I don't even care if another door opens
I just want shelter.
I'm sick from this storm blowing against my back
The sands cut like class as they wipe against my skin.
It's made me numb to the things I desperately
need to feel.

It's filling my mouth
I'm unable to breathe.

I stretch my arms up toward the sky
with tears casketing from my eyes I fall
to my knees
giving up
everything to you Lord.

My eyes are stinging and I don't know
what else to do.
and then you life me up away from
this disaster.
I am free.