The Saint is back yet once again, <br />to pick upon your skin. <br />Infectiously in his own way, <br />you allowed it to come in. <br />While some they sleep unknowingly, <br />their inner children play. <br />In the darkest parts of each a word, <br />they stutter so to stay. <br />He finds such joy misguiding those, <br />who've never found their way. <br />While some they sleep unknowingly, <br />yet seek what he might say. <br />Shall it be a brutal truth, <br />a penny paid for sweet? <br />Or... <br />A fictional psalm of joy, <br />a lie for which to keep? <br />He wont say, <br />don't beg to ask, <br />find joy for what hes given. <br />Some they sleep unknowingly, <br />enjoy... <br />The Saint has written.<br /><br />saint cynosure ( Ken Bennight )<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-saint-has-written/
