here i sit upon this craggy cliff
i justify all my indiscrepancies
will i linger in this miff
or blame certain complexities
little do i realize that
angels linger near my heart
and despite my being bald and fat
Jesus is into that saving part
so linger do i no longer and
sit lazily down here in the sand
i get up and then dance away
my chains not iron... they were clay
i raffle off what is left
my stability is all bereft
i sit and ponder with friends
just how to go and make amends
euthanasia, abortion rights,
i tire of wondering what is right
why can't i live why can't i die,
i'm scared of both, but still i try
these things belong; these things i think...
they belong in the kitchen sink
they belong to me,
i think, i think.
i depend on strangers to make my food.
i depend on the poor to harvest my coffee.
i stand unique alone, un-meek.
i belong to the set apart elite.
but for some obtuse reason, it doesn't fit.
this doesn't fit, this thought life crime.
these thoughts i think...
are they still mine?
here i sit upon this craggy cliff
i justify all my indiscrepancies
little do i realize that
Jesus is into that saving part
Copyright 2003 by pauly hart
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