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Even Prayers No Longer Know Whom They Ask
I have said so many prayers
that sometimes I feel they are no longer mine.
That I inherited them
like clothes too large.
I say them, but do not understand.
I utter them, but do not believe.
And yet, I cling to them
like the hand of a father who never held me.
Perhaps belief is not needed.
It is enough to keep hoping.
Even lost prayers
find their way to Heaven.
Copyright ©
Florin Lacatus
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