So if heaven exists then does it ever appear here on Earth
Does something from above ever descend to mend these men
Does the feeling ever reach out and creep around these streets
Will angels shine bright over moss roofs and bird shit lampposts
Will they fly over and smooth out all of these complicated rough roads
Will the light ever find us here leaning up against this wall
The place where all the bad and dog piss falls
As nobody here wants to believe in anything other than celebrity and T.V.
But the convenience of his existence during heartache and loss is overwhelming
And you hope that he’s alive the next time you sit and cry
So could we ever find a God who will sit comfortably in our lives?
© 2008 Steven Pottle