ALWAYS, SOMETIMES, MAYBE

Always, Sometimes, Maybe

Always,
Although I am now a man and fully grown,
I see myself, again, at eleven years old and far from home,
Pleading with my mother, as I start to groan,
Not to leave me on my own,
Not to take away my comfort zone,
As I pump coins into the telephone,
Only to end the call with a tone,
That tells me there’s no longer anyone home,
And, for now, I’m on my own,
It will be like this until I’m grown,
In pieces, to the winds, my heart is blown,
Gotta grow and don’t you moan,
Learn to solve life’s problems all alone,
Work things out on your own.
Still I need to know I’m not alone.

Sometimes,
In times like this, I have tried
To remember how Jesus died,
For he suffered much more, it cannot be denied,
As those that witnessed had no reason to have lied,
How his mother and friends knelt down and cried,
For he took the all the pain the world supplied,
And on that cross we pushed a spear into his side,
To his father, forsaken, he cried,
Had God turned his back and denied,
That, forever, he’d be at his side?
Is it all just a big lie?

Maybe,
God had a plan to give us all a cure,
Through Jesus, who was pure,
That, for us all, the pain he would endure,
Because, in his father, he was sure,
That this final act would lead to more,
That this would open up the door,
To God, and heaven, for evermore,
That the angels would sing an overture,
That God really loves this dented world for sure.
That, if we choose, we can walk through the door,
And although we will still suffer more,
We have someone to pick us up off the floor,
Clothe us in his love so we can do more,
So all the angels will still sing an overture,
Forever more.