Sundays On Sunday morning sidewalk I'm wishing God that I was stoned cause there's something in a Sunday that makes a body feel alone. And lonliness and life are always based on tears For the growth of the flower within us Brings forth the last of every mans fears. And the blind are left to lead the blind And the deaf to hear us speak The rays ofr sunshine fill my soul- God's helping hand is what I seek. Hence, the tables soon will take a turn And life no longer will fit its name For you will try the taste of death Because the devil called--you came. To pull a trigger or slit a wrist is not the way to win For you hurt yourself and all others Suicide is a sin. So, on this dearth Sunday morning I'm wishing God that I was stoned cause there's something in a Sunday That makes God and me alone.
Reason for writing:
any comments please ;)
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