Playing Worship

This isn’t how I should live.
I need to act, no be, more real.
I shouldn’t be lifting my hands like praise
When I’m wondering what my neighbor thinks.
Why am I sitting here, on my knees
While it feels like a habit, not thankful for grace?
Why am I acting like such a fool?
Does it seem, right now, like I’m holier than you?
When I go back home, will I be more cruel?
If I’m living for earth but seeming like I’m for God,
Should I not hide in my closet until I set things right?
Should I not ask for forgiveness for hypocrisy,
If I’m living for God but acting like earth is my eternity?
Now should I confess my sins to those
Whose faces I’ve pondered while I’ve played worship?
Now should I admit my sin?
What if I even play holy again?
Maybe I should have been real from the start.
Maybe the answer to my questions wouldn’t hide in the dark.
And yet it’s too late to take back what I’ve done,
So I’ll ask for forgiveness, and now I’ll move on.
With my life so short and my decisions so many,
I choose to live for God,
To worship my Savior.
To live real; to praise Him.
I choose to not play worship.