Hoot, hoot, niteowl, June here,
My grandmother used to write her prayers into poetry because she believed that the Lord would feel more inclined to listen to something that at least sounded like she put effort into it. This reminded me of her prayers, so I appreciate this. This poem is wonderfully concise, and beautifully written, which doesn't leave too much room for me to say anything in the ways of critique.
I'm in love with the refrain you used here-- really ties the poem together and adds a feeling of desperation, devotion, and final chances to the tone of the poem.
Two thumbs skyward,
June
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