The Picture On My Desk
The picture of him is on my desk saved.
Upon my heart he is permanently engraved.
I think that I should feel about him more,
But instead there exists that eternal war.
Can I be good enough to remain by his side?
Or will I run away on the path that's so wide?
I'd like to think that I'd be strong,
But this wouldn't be the first that I've been wrong.
The thoughts of the future are not pleasant.
Then again, neither are the thoughts of the present.
I strive to find from the world a release.
I'd really like to find that inner peace.
I pray for the evil in me not to show through.
I pray for the same hope in everyone, too.
But I'm afraid if I look in the mirror, it'll break.
However, as I turn around, my image it does take.
Maybe I'll get over thinking that I'm ugly and evil.
Perhaps I'll try to. Maybe I will.
Until then, I'll walk the middle of the road.
I'll try to lay down some of my heavy load.
I look back at his picture. It's still there.
Maybe in his life I will someday share.
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