"Praises" poem #9

What is this "me" culture?

What is this "you"?

You walk so blindly

But say it's light

Now I won't be bashing

I won't be loud

I stand and knock

Watching that very clock

Tiktok it goes

Ticking the time away

Waiting for your praise

But the praise never came

You sing of me

But you sing for yourself

You sing to share

The gift that you got

But when you "praise" me

You get the praise instead

Centered around me? You say

As your voice lifted up

But for those who don't sing

For those who are shy

Why are you scared?

To sing praises in my name?

Because you're not good?

Your voice is not there?

I hear my people sing

But themselves do they praise

Where does your song come from?

From the heart or from the voice?

Do you not understand?

The heart praises me the most

How good you can sing

How high you hold that note

Beautiful that voice

Like a crystal in its purest form

Though your voice may be lovely

And your praised in my home

Your purest voice is from your soul

Not the sound of every note

So praise me children

I want to hear your soul

I want to hear your praises

As you open up the door.