Against the glass, clear, cold and dead. 100 strangers may rest - TopicsExpress

Against the glass, clear, cold and dead. 100 strangers may rest their head. And find within a common theme, Of slumber found to soothe their need. And in this glass I see my figure, Dark and slouched; I slightly snicker. And think of ways to pick a part. The days spent mending this broken heart. And you ask me how I stayed so long. In the lyrics of a shallow; near empty song. With words that tightened around my neck, And broke the will I hadnt met. But I ask you questions, only god knows why, I persist and I hiss and I continue to try. All I want is a reason to get my by, A reason for the moments my eyes arent dry. And I wait for a response though I doubt will come, Like I child, pensive, sucking on their thumb. I am vulnerable, I am weak I am without much purpose. And I know in my heart, you never meant to hurt us.

Good Morning. In Lam. 4:22 the word of the Lord said, “The

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