Dear God,

How is it that one does want?

And how is it that one finds life?

And how is it that one believes?

Down in this pit of grief and strife.


How is it that trust maintains?

When I can’t trust myself

And where is it, this dusty thing?

Hidden on some dusty shelf.


How do people feel that life

Is wholly still unfair?

How do people feel like that?

Breathing in this air.


What’s inside cannot be faked

And we have no control

What do you oh Lord and God

Seek from this poor soul?


Make in me what I cannot

Put in me this heart

Cause me to desire things

And I will have to start.