On our own.
why do we see them on the streets.
children runaway today.
crying faces that we meet.
people hungry everyday.
a drunken man lies on the floor.
rain falls on his face.
thieves are beating down a door.
money in their case.
a woman singing to her child,
tears run down her cheeks.
remembers everytime she smiled,
but now the times are bleak.
if prayers can't make it better,
God only knows what will.
we sit and write our letters,
spilling out our ills.
throwing away the memories,
words that only hurt.
thinking of the treachery,
in amongst the dirt.
if prayers won't fix our lives,
God only knows what can.
everything for which we strive,
has all been left to man.
maybe we should stop the prayers,
wash away the lies.
instead of standing with a stare,
resentment in our eyes.
it's plain that God won't help us,
and so we all should know,
we have to help ourselves and thus,
reap what we have sown.
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