Barefooted and Bought

Days of red roses
All traded in
For what I believed to be
Rich soil beneath:
A place to grow
A fertile space for roots.

Every grain of dirt
Is an island
Fords are overwhelmed
By floods
And what use are roots
Without blooms?

I sold myself
For a song
For a steal
And all that makes me valuable now
Is the cross-ransom I still know
My sweet Jesus paid.

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