A Prayer of Relief For My Dear Timothy
I can't leave my house
Or answer the phone
I'm going down again
But I'm not alone
Settling at last
Accounts of the soul
This for the trash
That paid in full
As for the fall, it began long ago
Can't stop the rain
Can't stop the snow
I sit in my chair
I look at the street
The neighbor returns
My smile of defeat
I move with the leaves
I shine with the chrome
I'm almost alive
I'm almost at home
No one to follow
And nothing to teach
Except that the goal
Falls short of the reach
To remit is to
Alone we will not grieve
If must you dig to find reprieve
Be it not in the ground in graves of history
The war is over a new one found
The search for peace is buried in the heart
You are free to choose you want
Ask forgiveness and for love you fought
But if it is not for love
Then what is the cost?