The Race

When I worry I get sick;
I think this is just some kind of trick
That my body’s trying to play,
In a sick, demented way.
I feel so very much alone
Like my heart is made of stone.
Some day the wall will come down;
I’ll smile again, instead of frown.
Or I will no longer be
And they will soon forget of me.
All the sadness, all the tears,
Soon I won’t worry about my fears.
This cruel world I’ll leave behind
I’ll be in heaven, where they’re all so kind.
I don’t want you to cry or mourn;
In my place a new life is born.
I will always wait for you,
Until you’ll be in heaven too.
There we will laugh and embrace
And let the others finish the race.

Oct. 27, 2001