Discontented Heart

I was born with a discontented heart
Not that I despise my house and deny my home
But that I know I am not meant for this place in which I live
I am always reaching out, imploring to be carried away from here
Always second guessing, always questioning
Is this the life I am meant to live?
Are these four walls all there is?
I was born with a discontented heart
Not that I cannot love because the aptitude to love is present of course
But that the tendency to doubt is all the more
I am always feeling trapped, always feeling stuck
I cannot know for sure, but these questions haunt me
Is love to only feel like suffocating?
Is love always so quickly fading?
I was born with a discontented heart
Not that I smile not and laugh disingenuously
But that I yearn for the next moment of abandoned joy instead of making it my own
I am always looking out, looking past what I have here and now
The world is not always gray, but more than often I make it that way
So quick to forget the friends I have
So quick to displace the trust I lack
I was born with a discontented heart
Not that I believe I am here by mistake
But at times I query my God on his timing and placement
I am always falling under, always lacking faith
So I turn to the universe to question my fate
Is this all there is?
Is this lot all I’m given?
I was born with a discontented heart
I pray you, dear God, your pitiful servant do not depart

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