“Courage is like love; it must have hope for nourishment.”

You are all three. People are unable to provide me with what I need. And I am incapable of providing other people with what they need either. I crave the recognition that only you can supply. Yet I turn to these lesser things. I am starving.

“An army marches on its stomach.”

You have served me healthy food to eat and yet I try to hunt for it myself in a barren forest.
You have set before me clean water to drink and yet I lap my tongue at the desert sands.
You have given me royal clothes to put on my back and yet I try to wash my dirty rags with sewer water.
You have built a heavenly house for shelter and yet I gamble within a den of thieves.

You have given up your infallible crown for a starving beggar and yet he strives to win bronze medals for himself.

You provided me with the precious opportunities I so desired and yet I squandered them like a fool and treated them like trash. And now I feel lost and starving.