When Friends Are More
When Friends Are More
My mother,
I wish to be disowned.
My father,
died.
My step father…
too dark.
The rest,
worthless people,
that take.
How did I not know that?
How did I not care?
Because I was told,
and to fold,
was to survive.
Slowly, I found…
God makes things grow.
He makes flowers bloom.
He stands ever at your side,
and fills the emptiness…
with Light.
Strangers, sent from heaven.
They pull you out ditches.
They make sure,
you do not sleep in cars.
They save coupons,
and put things in boxes,
to be sure…
everyone eats.
They keep all,
safe…
when tigers
roam.
Angels, have tea with them on Saturdays.
On Sundays they go to church.
I now go with them.
As I, and my family…
have been invited.
I/we have been asked,
I/we have been told,
I/we have been,
made to believe,
and even vaguely understand,
that I/we am/are wanted,
and above all…
claimed.
|