I am Nobody

I remember all those lonesome roads, those in Nebraska, Iowa, and others. And when I felt so all alone, I felt that God with my friend, Jesus was with me.

I know nothing more about God than you do, but I do speak.

I know nothing and am nobody.  I am not special.  I am only here the same as you.

For the mildew morning, the dead of night, the criss-cross rivers of the dead of blight.  I was there with you.

Those who called out to God, my father.  God, I was there with you and you died, your stinking bodies of mold and rot.  And how much I loved you so.

Powerless there with you as you died, but I was standing and left to live.

And you died.

God, I am sorry as your wilted body exploded in my arms.  I was so much concerned about me.

Here I am to carry on, but I am nobody.  I am no one special.  I was only spared by my Father to live and to spread the message.  I don’t deserve anything, anything at all.

In the headlights of the darkness, I was dead there with you.

In the life of the brightness, I know nothing more than the few.

In the absence of life, and in the deadness of life.

I am here in the sphere that seeks to swipe,

For there are two sides,

One is calling which side are you on,

And then again there are all those masses seeking to be heard

But not be told

And then again,

I say that I love you

And you smack that scar even scorns the side of God’s cheek.

I was here all alone.  And then I say, God bless you.


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