Testo Prayer Justin Solonynka
She walks through white-walled streets
Gloved hands and blistered feet
She tries to see the day a little clearer
She tries to hold it all a little dearer
Writing letters, canât use pencil or pen
Colored crayons will have to do then
Hiding something, hiding from us
Or maybe from herself
Whoâs afraid of the big bad god
The wretched wretches cry
Iâll take a step, then Iâll take two back
And there but for me go I
Memory hits like shooting shrapnel
It cuts her arms up, cuts her self up
Thereâs this need to be less than there is
This was a closing up
And all in awe itâs all in all
A dream âtween black and black
A game of chess that no one plays
Goes on behind our backs
This is not her life.
Shards of thoughts and hopes and dreams
She throws them to the air
She makes the best of her living life
Hoping someone will hear her prayer