The Lord is my shepherd,
    and I am a lamb as timid as shadows at noon.
I shall not want,
    except for small favors like more cartoons and a blanket with no holes in it.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
    so I can close my eyes in this utopia of calm, forgetting that tomorrow will be
    the same bleak reality.
He leads me beside quiet waters,
    and I splash the cool water over my still-healing cuts and bruises, wincing
    every now and then.
He restores my soul,
    but my heart is scarred with truth, making the trust bleed dark, like gravel in
    the knee.
He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake,
    and though the paths are long and lonely, I keep going.
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
    I look ahead to the mountains I will climb and try not to look back to what
    will always be there.
I will fear no evil,
    except for drunken daddies and two-by-fours.
For you are with me,
    but that doesn't mean I get milk and cookies after school every day.
You prepare a feast for me in the presence of my enemies,
    filled with hope and love, and I eat generously, and store it like a camel.
You anoint my head with oil, my cup overflows,
    but only when I'm alone or when I'm asleep.
Surely goodness and love with follow me all the days of my life,
    and I realize that although they may follow me, sometimes they won't catch
    up when I need them, but they are still there.
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever,
    because forever is after the hurt and the hungry tummies and beyond the stars
    I wish on.
Amen.