Looking
(not with eyes)
I’m sure we’ll be all right
No compelling reason
Faith, I guess
Measures of hope and hope for grace
In faith, these are promises,
Which on a tired, hungry morning
Sore and cynical
Do not win over, easily
For anyone
But there’s optimism in that, too
Tolerance unearned
Shame assuaged
Should take more strength than I have
You might be tired, too
But the next hour will arrive
Without us
We can’t make everything happen,
Thank goodness
Though we can do this much
C L Couch
By Poupig – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=20853200

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