A Kind Of Prayer Poem by GRANT FRASER

I am on my knees,
and yet I'm nowhere
near it,

they're hurting,
nothing is sore,
it's just my soul,
that pretends it knows,

I am changing,

no - there is no transformation!

love is alive,
and yet it is dead,

you don't know you...

the world would definitely
change, or we would know it,

you know everything,
when nothing is what you want,

zero is not empty,
it fills vacuums, all the time....

I want to punch you - fresh air!
or get up off my knees,

these carvings of emptiness,
invisible statues of cares...