My Nightly Prayer (Is That You’ve Got Me Too) -5/27/05

My mind is empty of the lofty things
And high ideals I use whene’er I write
No fancy use of metaphor which brings
Importance to what otherwise is trite.

Yeah, Life just seems so meaningless at three,
When ev’ryone will soon awake to day:
A day that, lying awake, I cannot see,
A day whose coming, every night, I pray.

Just two things hold a shred of hope for me:
A photograph of one that’s far removed,
Your presence felt I count as number two,
But only one my All-in-All can be.
The first cannot define me, that’s been proved.
I guess that means that all I’ve got is You.