19 stones in the satchel I carry. Some are huge and lots are small. I hoist them up each morn at dawn And stumble through another day Looking for a place to put them down. ljm
I say the words That may or may not help me I say the names That may or may not be heard. I cry the daily tears That may or may not heal me And gather up the strength To face another day of pain Without a bird outside my window. ljm