My spirit's strong
But my heart is weak
As a single tear
Rolls down my cheek
...
I like to write a poem
That would be fit to frame
Proof to those who read it
My love for you won't change
...
All your fears
Are at their height
When thunder strikes
Late at night
...
I'm but a soldier
In an army called life
In my right hand a pen
In my left one a knife
...
I can't help but contemplate
Of the mess I made
I could never calculate
'Cause my memory tends to fade
...
The angels sang
As the Lord arrived
He had a glee
In His eyes
...
Do you remember
The first time
I reached to touch
Your heart with mine
...
Put some lift
Beneath my wings
Play a tune
Make my heart sing
...
The Mystery Writer lives
In each broken heart
A voice that was silenced
By a love that was lost
...
No need for words
To be said
When I lie
With you in bed
...