Betsy's Burden

Poor thing was such a worrier 
Over every little thing
Tell her any bit of news 
Expect the third degree
Endless nights she would spend in prayer
For answers to the problems  
The running joke around the town 
Avoid being Betsy’s burden

Betsy was the sweetest soul
You would ever want to meet
Always first to help someone
If ever there was a need
Despite poor Betsy’s goodness
Her worry voided reason
She would drive a soul plum crazy
Your problem became her burden

One early Sunday afternoon 
Before the choir rehearsed 
The people of the church house
Started to get concerned
Betsy never did show up
To lift her voice in song
A member of the choir set out
To find out what was wrong

They found her by her bedside
Still in place to pray
In offering up a prayer to God
He took her home to stay
Only thing that could explain 
Her death while still in prayer
That God himself was finally tired
Of hearing her always pray

Some people take upon them 
To be a pillar of strength
Betsy was that person
But her burden did defeat
Be careful of the task you chose
So it does not destroy you
Just like the problem 
That done one in
Known as Betsy’s burden
Copyright © | Year Posted 2010

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Kendrick Avatar
July 5, 2010 at 1:56 PM
If one has to go, in prayer would be the way to go...We need those prayer warriors who are willing to touch the throne of grace for everyone..Keep the creative pen flowing..Sara
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace