Needle and thread

I am waiting, praying, dying on this bed and no one knows.

Remedies of my own only induce more symptoms--regret and sorrow.

Oh, Jesus, you made the little girl live again.

Hear my prayer, please take me with you--past this feeble amen.



Let me wake--hungry for your word, not for raisin bran.

Let me run--not for five pounds lost, but so I can better stand for you.

Let me love--out of love for you and not for what I can gain in the end.



Please, take my heart and mend.



Memories find me--They are thick and rich, much like cheesecake

I miss him--it's both simple and complicated, but no mistake.

He is yours, and I know it. But he feels like mine-despite the sever.

As the orchestra played, we danced and we swayed, but not forever.



Let me wake--longing for You, Lord, not for his arms and that smile never meek

Let me see--that your plan is much more beautiful than the mole on his cheek

Let me know--you are with him now, and he's okay


Please, take our broken love. We give it to you. This I pray.