I am no sculpter
I am no painter...

Object of my affection
Th rusted love's direction...

Tears slide
As i clutch my knees...

They say I'm beautiful
No one beyond compare...

You took my breath away
And held it in your hand...

There's a time when a child dies
All life seems to stop...

You created an image from dirt and twigs,
Molded yourself into frankincense, gold, and figs...

For too long you have stared down smiling as you...
For too long you have pranced across the crimson...

Feel it in my bosom
Deep interred in my chest...

As a child
I always prayed...

As i lay on my bed crying
The covers swallow me whole...

Notice me crying?
Yeah the girl in the back...