A poem of you and I
In everything I ever do,
it all adds up to me and you.
In every place I've ever been,
either of faith or maybe sin.
In every thought I ever think,
whether in pencil or in ink.
And any wish I ever dream,
it all adds up to just one thing,
it's just . . .
All of the poems that I've wrote,
and all the lyrics that I'd quote.
With all the stories that I've read,
and all the blood that I've shed.
All of the hurts that I have felt,
and all the flowers I have smelt.
All of the beauty I surmise,
what sometimes seems to pass me by,
is that . . .
Everything I ever do,
four always comes from two and two.
And if I know I'll hold on true,
you'll be with me, and me with you.
For I'll wait upon you Lord,
and I'll renew my strength again.
I shall rise up on eagles wings,
and I shall rise up on the wind,
and so . . .
If I know I'll hold on true,
I know you'll take me through.
I will be on my feet again,
and I'll rise up to be to you,
it's true . . .
You're with me always,
you're with me always.
You never leave
and you never forsake.
I don't know how that
I could ever think you're not,
because . . .
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart