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Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Confession

If I start speaking Latin
Don’t think that I’m possessed
I’m only conversing in tongues
Confessing how much I’m blessed
Angels might echo my actions
But I’d hardly count myself one
I’m not really suited for harping
I’d like to have a little more fun
But saints and sinners are people
They all had ordinary lives once
Till a catalyst hastened a spark
Making giants out of runts
My pedestal stands at the ready
I’ll have so far to climb
You put me so far above you
Gives me farther to fall, I find
You’ve no notion of being so blessed
Blessings have no meaning of self
It’s not that you can’t ever love me
It’s the value, the cost, the price


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