Perhaps this poem is not bold
With no great sense of gall
The truth is more than can be told
Though you should hear it all
You're well acquainted with my mold
You lift me when I fall
The truth is more than can be told
Though you should hear it all
Your love's a wonder to behold
It never seems to stall
You're well acquainted with my mold
You lift me when I fall
Your love's a wonder to behold
It never seems to stall
In trial or pain you're my handhold
You'll answer when I call
You're well acquainted with my mold
You lift me when I fall
In trial or pain you're my handhold
You'll answer when I call
Your love for me shines bright as gold
No matter my shortfall
You're well acquainted with my mold
You lift me when I fall
Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 2:12 PM UTC
Perhaps this poem is not bold
With no great sense of gall
The truth is more than can be told
Though you should hear it all
You're well acquainted with my mold
You lift me when I fall
The truth is more than can be told
Though you should hear it all
Your love's a wonder to behold
It never seems to stall
You're well acquainted with my mold
You lift me when I fall
Your love's a wonder to behold
It never seems to stall
In trial or pain you're my handhold
You'll answer when I call
You're well acquainted with my mold
You lift me when I fall
In trial or pain you're my handhold
You'll answer when I call
Your love for me shines bright as gold
No matter my shortfall
You're well acquainted with my mold
You lift me when I fall