Benches
Benches beckon those that shuffle softly through the ruins of decisions they have made.
Sitting in the silence, in the fog of their regrets and grief, that never seems to fade.
The sun is shining brightly on the benches in the park, glistening through their fallen tears.
As they sit among the ashes, of the solitude and thoughts, of all their wasted years.
Now there's one among them, with her smile and her stories, that can lift a troubled soul.
Picking up the pieces of their broken dreams and lives, as she tries to make them whole.
She's an angel sent from heaven, with music in her voice, that seems to sing their song.
The broken souls on benches, that were silent in their sorrow, gather strength to sing along.
In an instant they can feel, the happiness and joy, that long ago gave reason to go on.
With tears that once were full of fear, now falling with the hope and dreams, of a bright new dawn.
The angel's wings enfold them, as they feel the love of God, that can guide a shattered soul.
Moving slowly from the emptiness, they rise up from the ashes, with the faith that they'll be whole.
Now the benches sit in idleness, with great anticipation, of the lonely broken hearts.
Beckoning the shattered souls, that somehow drift to benches, and the love that God imparts.
And the benches that were empty, now are filled with heavens music, as the angel sings their song.
While the never ending circle, of the silent souls in sorrow, gather strength to sing along.
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