The image in the glass, so dirty and unkempt
He sees her ev'ry day, to love her- His attempt.
She thinks she's not worthy, then turns away to grieve
As He whispers softly: "My child, life will deceive".
The image screams so clear "I'm ugly and undone"
Yet faintly seen is the blurred vision of a gun.
Her cries are not unheard that built up through the years
Then He whispers softly: "I'll dry up all your tears".
Frustrations bottled up, those borne from grief and pain
Basic acts of living have grown to be a strain.
It's easy now to hide; she'd rather just be gone
Gently now He whispers: "You'll never be alone".
And as He lifts His hand to simply touch her life
She throws it to the side and firmly grasps the knife
That stands for all the times she wanted just to die
Still staring at the glass she simply mutters... why?
"My child, I love you so", He whispers in her ear,
"Allow me now to help, for I will calm your fear".
My Child, life will deceive
I'll dry up ev'ry tear
You'll never be alone
For I will calm your fear.
And found is strength to live another day or two
The knife now thrown away; death, for a time, is too.
She's gained the strength to smile and as she turns to go
He whispers yet again; "My Child, I love you so".
01-18-2007
















my sweet little sister
Valerie
32 old applause
