God Knows
The seasons change and the world keeps turning.
Somehow more strange as we keep on learning.
We live our lives by the grace of God.
Until ashes spread or we're under sod.
Aren't you glad you're reading my poem.
All warm and fuzzy like going back home. :)
The truth be known, it's out of our hands.
God knows that no one understands.
We hope and pray that we don't suffer.
That on that day there is a buffer.
And when the pain becomes too much.
We'll feel the warmth of an angel's touch.
Why, you ask, am I concerned with this.
Are things looking grim, have I been remiss?
Well, there you have it, it's getting dim.
I can almost hear them sing the hymn.
Copyright © Robert Johnson | Year Posted 2014
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