As children bring
their broken toys
with tears for us to mend,
I brought my broken dreams
to God,
because He was my friend.

But then instead
of leaving Him
in peace to work alone,
I hung around
and tried to help,
with ways
that were my own.

At last I snatched them back
and cried,
"How can You be so slow"
"My child," He said,
" what could I do?
You never did let go."


On a personal note!

I've always held this poem dear.
I have often brought my broken
dreams to God.
He has always kept my dreams alive,
I pray, He'll still do that now!
Belinda Smith