“Please, God, I have two requests;
grant them so I’ll know I count with you:
First, lay off the afflictions;
the terror is too much for me.
Second, address me directly so I can answer you,
or let me speak and then you answer me.
How many sins have been charged against me?
Show me the list—how bad is it?
Why do you stay hidden and silent?
Why treat me like I’m your enemy?
Why kick me around like an old tin can?
Why beat a dead horse?
You compile a long list of mean things about me,
even hold me accountable for the sins of my youth.
You hobble me so I can’t move about.
You watch every move I make,
and brand me as a dangerous character.