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Written By: Janette Locke  |  Posted: Tuesday, April 13th, 2010

Walking down the cold, dreary road,
Falling down 'neath my guilty load,
I barely saw the road I trod,
And swiftly left all thoughts of God.

I found guilt's weight impossible to bear,
Yet how could the King I scorned even care?
Jesus' hand tenderly came and touched me,
But I rejected Him so bitterly.

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