If I were cloned which would I be,
I, myself, yours truly, or me?
Coud my clone be me and I'd be she,
Our beings used interchangeably?
A few boards here and there;
A remembrance of when you were six
And needed escape from the humdrum of reality.
Dad and you sawed and hammered in the mulberry tree,
Like a rose that blooms in the desert
Is my Savior's love for me.
Its petals unfold at the dawning,
Sweet and pure eternally.