Friday, February 1, 2008

The Fool

The Fool

My eyes are like running streams
My tears don't have a set pattern
They flow from check to nose down to mouth pass my chin straight for my chest
I think they're trying to find my heart
They want to put out the fire that's burning inside
I hurt, I hurt more
It's my fault being the fool again
When you think you have buried the fool inside
He arises again
I prayed on this
But maybe I wasn't prayed up
I was once told you must be prayed up
You can't squeeze your prayers in when you need your father most
I should have needed him always
Called on him always
Now I hurt, I hurt more

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