What To Believe
Should I somehow believe that you are near,
for if I don't, I'll live in fear,
that the times we had will be the last
to come and go just so damn fast.
Or should I feel you're all around
in the rains that fall upon the ground,
in a sky of blue and the green of grass
the sparkle of light that a snowflake casts.
The hope you see as religion is spun
I'll get you back when I am done,
so I'll hang right here below your sun
till fate dictates yet again we're one.
Copyright © Mark Hughes | Year Posted 2017
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