A prayer from a weak man’s heart

A prayer from a weak man’s heart.

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If you were here

If you were here I wouldn’t be here.
My dignity would not be trampled over so
By children
My soul wouldn’t be so sour over little things
And my haert wouldn’t be so heavy over
Lose of so meaningless a thing as is my sense of self.

I am a nobody,
I know that.
A dog’s being is better than mine
And its broken haert is of far greater value than mine:
I know that.
But even a dog has a coat on it.
Am I that naked now that you gone?