Secondhand Miracles (Not Good Enough) Poem by Arnie Hicks

lost in the kindness of your curves,
i loved you to the brink of madness,
retreating only at the last,
knowing for me, your star would be forever out of reach

had it been my fate to fly with angels,
this heart might long ago have sprouted wings and flew,
but seldom has the sinner been rewarded
with the spoils of the saint

early in my sourjon through this world, i sealed my fate
devil took my soul and now i but witness from the bargain seats,
the goings on of courts and kings and things,
with the grinning paupers' congregation at the back of the church

but you, my love, you were made for better things than i
another life, another time, we'll meet again - lovers to the last
but where eternity kisses in ways to anoint the lips of many,
secondhand miracles never come cheap.