COMFORT ME

Some speak about the coming of Christ and that’s nice.
Every day will be Spanish Christ-mas – the birth of mo’ Christ
Especially for all of you that saved your life, in His blood,
For the time when your Savior arrived in your hood.
Now, some of you may call me a rebel, stating
Things, that I have no proof, no hard evidence.
But, you don’t have to be deaf to be dumb, you see
The blind who’s looking, in the end, will have a revel- ation
Like Helen Keller. This life has been heaven-sent
From the beginning, its Genesis, open your Bible and believe
Cause this can’t be-life that you be-living without belief.
Guess that’s why they mis-spelled the last word, my brother,
To make you think that you can have one without the other.

I have not been inside a Catholic confessional.
But I’m going to pretend right now as I confess. Ya know,
It’s been a while since I consistently did right;
Although there were times that I did write
Some passages on paper on how to become a better man.
That’s all they were, words on paper. I didn’t make the passage.
I hid from rites. Til I sat on the corner again, read my rights.
Praying . . .

Lord, I know I’ve been up to no good
Hardly doing the things that I know I should
I know you cried for me, but I’m still running;
I know you died for me, but you’re still coming.
And I’m looking for you cause the things I’ve seen
Make me believe there must be a Holy Trinity.
Yet, still from your Words I flee.
Stupid me . . .
Stupidly, lusting for things no meant for me.
Please, accept this as a prayer faithfully
And wait for me, patiently. Til I stop hating me.
I thank thee! For saving me. You’re my safety.
With sanctity, I plead on humbled knee, gratefully.
I’m just saying before you come for me, comfort me
Through these troubled seas until triumphantly
I emerge, praising thee . . . most saintly He!
I give all grace to thee . . . most saintly He!

D Arlando Fortune

Keep it as simple as A, B, C’s; 1, 2, 3’s; and, do, re, mi’s.