Like a Wound Fits a Knife
Breath in, breath in our collective sin. The misery of boys and girls who don’t know the ways of the country they live in. We farm it off on humanitarians when we are humans in the world why can’t we love like them?
It’s like a bad decision you can’t take back. Or a life of living lives without much regret.
You don’t know how it breaks me up (a man brought down to fill my cup). We’ve seen a vision of what is love but without action I’ve had enough. Like Haitians in Dominica brought over the border to sweeten my cup. Why does hunger twist a child’s side when my belt fits tight like a wound fits a knife?
Jesus come back. Cut the Christians some slack. We can’t afford to love everyone. Love’s a commodity. We’ve swallowed a lie about our selfish lives. Does blessing mean what we think? More like a camel through a needle’s eye.
It’s like a vicious circle we’re caught up in. When there’s love only for the lovely the rest can’t win.
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