Saturday, November 26, 2005

The Quiet Tumor

They are here,
Anytime I need,
They care,
They share,
You never see any greed,
They love,
They hold us dear,
But can they really see,
How much they mean to me....

God Doesn't Check His Answering Machine

Ring, Ring,
I call one, two, three times a day,
But the few times you answer,
I don't know what to say,
I wait,
I gather,
Trying to find a clue,
I whisper to myself at night,
Pretending it is you,
I stand around,
I believe,
I stray away from the crowd,
And just like I vowed,
I pray outloud,
I wish for everything,
For things to be OK,
But instead of checking your answering machine,
You watch me tear away.