Trapped


Wrote this poem this morning about my experience with pornography and sexual addiction. Be Blessed.

Trapped

 I am trapped, locked up, incarcerated, and imprisoned.

Not by bars, the warden, guns, or handcuffs.

I’m trapped by sexual addiction and lust.

I watch porn, read nasty books and always take second looks.

I crouch like a lion waiting on a gazelle, hiding behind a façade so nobody can tell.

I wait, I watch, then pounce on my prey, saying this is the last one, but I do it everyday.

Log in, log out, I turn the computer off, but when I’m stressed I go right back

to the normal routine NEVER counting up the cost.

Never counting the steps I’m taking away from God and my reality to escape what I should have given

him in the first place, I’M LOST.

Lost in a fantasy, lost in the temporary, lost and weighted down by burdens that I don’t have to carry.

Stress rises, flesh cries, Spirit says no, but my flesh says, GO.

Go to the familiar, it’s too hard to pray, release the pressure, it will make it go away.

But like a snowball it rolls downhill creating an avalanche that I can’t control or keep still.

Every step, every move, every turn I take, stress, calamity, confusion it awakes.

I’m trapped beneath movies, magazines, mental images, fantasies, and sex.

Not realizing the suicide bomber I’m becoming because I won’t crucify my FLESH.

I can’t  sleep, I can’t  rest, but then I hear the Holy Spirit speak with a fresh breath.

Cast down the imagination, here’s a way of escape, I’m breaking the chains, wiping you clean,

Repent, walk away my son, you are redeemed.

I can hold you, love you, soothe you, relax you, caress you, give you a release and more importantly I can give you peace.

Look to the hills, your help has come, no more guilt, no more shame, the battle is won.

Purity is yours but it’s a step you must take, burn the books, the magazines, and destroy the tapes.

My chains are gone, I’ve got a new song, I will never be bound again.

I used to be a porn addict, trapped without bars, trapped in my mind, thinking I was closing doors to it, but never throwing away the key. Finally I’m FREE.

 *Just Call Me Justified

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1 Comment

  1. Transparent said,

    December 24, 2011 at 3:37 pm

    This is awesome, brother Yancey! I remember when I was in bondage to sexual perversions. The porn, the lust, the fantasies… I would be a prisoner to my own mind. But then, like you said in your poem, I had to learn to cast down the imaginations. I had to learn to cast down every high thing that exalted itself against the knowledge of God, and by taking them captive, I had to learn to make every one of my thoughts obedient to Christ Jesus, the Word of God. (2 Corinthians 10:5) Thank you for sharing this wonderful poem. It’s a beautiful thing to be free.

    Now, I Think 4:8. Philippians 4:8 that is. “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things”

    God bless you. 🙂


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