Poem By Curtis Mosby
Such days are these rotten and forgotten among us.
I couldn't see love under a microscope defenseless as a goat.
No more shall i cry tears from these weakning eye's.
Thier something that we all have inside, as being a child of god
What are the odds seems unlikely thier will be heaven on earth.
Since birth i have had every name place in this organ spiritually.
I know you can hear me were all the same, i live to love
because i know thier pain.
Let's open it and give it for many are alone in life.
Lost to find emptiness in thier sight.
Tonight i write this poem as for the reason of music.
For you to listen to a heart that you have.
And when you need to use it.