The Rusted Useless Tool

Sometimes it feels like I'm trash, worn out, useless.
Like an old rake that lets leaves through,
refuses to move those that don't stick on the tines.
Like a broken screwdriver that comes apart
at the handle with the slightest pressure.a
aSometimes it feels like I'm trash, worn out, useless.ac
I can see being tossed away, hurled in the junk pile,
recycled for usable bits and pieces. It's what I deserve
when I forget the basics, mis-state facts I should know,
can't get out of my chair if I've been there for a time
without struggling, stumbling, getting functioning legs.
Sometimes it feels like I'm trash, worn out, useless.
But I don't belong to me. I decided years ago.
And I turned my will and my life over to the care of God
as I understood him, or even if I didn't. And he deserves
not something broken, giving up, laying down the load.
He deserves me useful, ready, needing to try,
willing to do what it takes to repair me. He deserves better.
Sometimes it feels like I'm trash, worn out, useless.
That happens when I give up, revert to all-about-me
and refuse to accept help so I can do my part.