Some
days I cry out to Mother, the Mother of my soul.
Craving someone to hold me
Just hold me
It doesn't have to be anything more
If that makes me weak
Then I'm weak
So be it
Still it doesn't change the fact
That I crave human contact
A physical touch
To curl up in someone's arms
Would be worth so much to me
Even though it's been years
I still go on
I persist
I place my hopes
That someone will accept my heart
Upon the altar of the Mother of my soul
Craving someone to hold me
Just hold me
It doesn't have to be anything more
If that makes me weak
Then I'm weak
So be it
Still it doesn't change the fact
That I crave human contact
A physical touch
To curl up in someone's arms
Would be worth so much to me
Even though it's been years
I still go on
I persist
I place my hopes
That someone will accept my heart
Upon the altar of the Mother of my soul
Jaclyn
Horton
No comments:
Post a Comment