A Final Plea
Why can God not hear the screams
which come from the pit, down deep,
from this tortured soul, begging
to be taken in my sleep?

Lord, give me the heart that is about to stop,
give me the disease that kills,
exchange my life for a dying child's,
I do not want to take these pills.

Dear God, I need to come your way,
please open Heaven's door,
I've done my job as an angel here,
I don't want to be here anymore...
this life is just too much a chore.

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Sweet Jesus, I am tired now.
How much louder must I weep?
Please send the angels down tonight
to take me home, as I lay asleep.


By Dixie Alligood

© 2005 Dixie Alligood (All rights reserved)


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