Take It
Looking into the eyes of fate,
My heart, it seems to burn,
Could it be the laws we make,
Or lessons that we learn.
Oh sorrowful father take my life,
To depth’s to mine unkown,
Lost and lonely bitter strife,
life’s path’s that we are shown.
To the rape of my shattered mind,
The scarring beneath the life,
I take the hand of misery kind,
bitterness sharp as a knife.
Could it be the empathy,
I store like bitter pills,
Could it be the sympathy,
Or the empathy that heals.
Copyright © Frank Quintana | Year Posted 2012
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