Till The Hearts Powder Is Dry Poem by Mark Heathcote

Tears tender drop every day
Till the hearts powder is dry
Looking to forgive all the things we do
It's then we inflict our own bruises too.

Oh, some days
We're all counting down the days
With a bottle, I'm trying to forget you!
But oh holy Mary, what can I do.

If those arms of forgiveness
Passed on before I found my faith in your arms
It's all I can do not to slit my wrists,
When these memories are like wraiths.

Oh tears tender tears drop every day
Till the hearts powder is dry
Oh mother rock my cradle
Keep me from all those awful harms I do.

Oh, some days
When it's quiet and peaceful I pray
I'll find my way to forgiving and forgiveness
And I'll love you again just as injudiciously
As I did as I, as I, as I did, when I first met you.