Thursday, January 5, 2012

2012 Woman

My voice is quivering as I try to be a man.
I stumble through the door to who I am.
The clothes I wear are bare, lacking color or flare.
I'm honest and open like a book in your hands.
Please, I pray, you listen to my plans.
We can go find a place far away,
with rivers,
with mountains,
where our children can play.
Our life will be lived a humble way.
We will give thanks for our food and pray everyday.