Father

Father look at me,
I'm only broken in some parts,
I've only tasted of the pain once or twice but its enough,
I'm dreaming in colour but its simple black and white,
The greys are misdirected towards the village in the East,
Where a worker's writing poetry on the walls with pretty lines,
Telling of the seagull's first flight.

Father I'm here to confess,
I'm not strong enough,
My hands are weary and dead,
Like the spirit resting in my heart,
I can't fight the fight set before me,
I'll take off down the path and read every story,
Oh Father,
I'm not strong enough.

I met a maiden who closed her eyes,
And told me her whole life,
Told me through her tears,
That crying makes one weak,
And she pointed to the ground where a painting lay,
She covered it with dirt,
Upon inquiry she fled into the sun,
To look upon the world,
And then she said:

Father I'm here to confess,
I'm not strong enough,
My hands are weary and dead,
Like the spirit resting in my heart,
I can't fight the fight set before me,
I'll take off down the path and read every story,
Oh Father,
I'm not strong enough.

I am laying in my room,
Telling myself that secrets bring me down,
To the bottom of my knees,
Where I am praying to you,
Father, I met a man in the street who told me,
Son, you're nothing bad, but alive,
And it brought me to tears.

Father I'm here to confess,
I'm not strong enough,
My hands are weary and dead,
Like the spirit resting in my heart,
I can't fight the fight set before me,
I'll take off down the path and read every story,
Oh Father,
I'm not strong enough.

by Aspire2
posted on 08/30/2009