Sometimes I think I know myself.
Sometimes I think I don’t.
I’ll do things I don’t want to do,
While other times I won’t.
I think I’m not well understood,
And if I am it’s rare
To find a girl who can and would,
And has a heart to share.
I think the chances might be small
To happen more than twice.
If that’s the case, I beat the odds,
Because I lost her thrice.
At once I am in love with life,
And all the world is grand.
Till I am low and lost in strife,
And cannot understand.
I speak these words to help me cope;
I give them to the air.
They bring me pain as well as hope,
As I wallow in despair.
These darker portions paint a picture,
An ugly, gruesome scene.
But the world is bright and filled with life
And bursting at the seams.
I believe in no great power,
No gods, no ghosts nor demons.
No twilight zone or witching hour
Just people, lives, and seasons.
But still I find myself at night.
Head bowed and knelt in prayer.
Praying for the strength or sight;
Asking favors of the air.