Look at me with loving eyes,
Or look at me with scorn,
Look at me the way you like,
For how I have been born.

I may not be six feet tall,
With blonde or wavy hair,
I am just a human soul,
And trapped within this chair.

I may not have graceful form,
And I may twitch about,
But I am made by God divine,
Of that I have no doubt.

He has special plans for me,
And things that I must do,
Many great and wondrous things,
Until my days are through.

Look at me the way you like,
But through my God above,
I'm a special instrument,
Of His great truth and love.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul