When I wake up often wondered did I dream
Leslie Low
how can i begin to comprehend my every sin
or at least describe it?
i have had it up and down my throat is shoved
with voices that can't say enough
it's drowning my own
i see the sense in its belief
i see the tension underneath
disfigures my often dying memory
little boy alone and all
standing by the altar small and trying for a miracle
staring at the candle flame
i heard that it will call your name
if you have faith
but not a trace
when i wake up often wondered
"did i dream?"
growing up with minor falls
major falls have made their calls
a stranger in his own wake
i listened to my mum and dad
the best a child could ever have
i owe it all to them.
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