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I can’t be made
to be the one –
the one to make things better
Been working that
so long I can’t recall
a time before
of month old tears –
and nothing in my pocket
I wonder what it means
to see it all

to lives before
and I can’t do a thing
about those choices
– been nipping
at my heels
and I can’t pay
Unsure of my uncertainty
a balance to my breaking –
Gave my body to a preacher
just to take my sins

The land is hard
where weeds grow strong
and no one seems to notice –
got troubles of their own
they can’t see
Who am I to think
there must be
something here I’m missing –
the whole world thinks
I’m crazy – I must be

Though not the same
as anyone
much deeper than they bother –
how many times
been broken
just to have myself remade

Coming back
for taking back –
I search the sky for answers
Damn that yellow moon
so far from me –
spinning wheel
the wind to blow
orchards needing water
The creek’s been dry
for nigh on fifty years

Burn the barn
unlatch the screen
and throw away my apron –
don’t worry long
for stories I believe
There’s something here –
more than storms fortelling

Lord I need to feel
the arms of rain