Jim Croce

I hate hating.
But hating seems to love me.
I try to pronounce the sound of love,
But I'm like an Asian trying to pronounce an 'r'
My mouth opens, and hate comes out,
But by the time I slam it shut,
Its too late. The hate is already out,
Can't pull it back.
Wish I could just speak love,
Inspire people,
Maybe give hope.
Everybody needs some hope.

"God fill me with love,"
I've been praying,
But hate still comes out.
Why?
Is it me?
Must be. Maybe I'm just not trying hard enough.
Those Asians could say 'r' if they just tried harder.
Thats how I've always felt.
Maybe I'm eating my words now.

I just want to love.
And be loved.
Even fake love,
Feels so good.
Like being wrapped up in water,
On a scorching day,
Every inch embraced,
Penetrated by the blue coolness,
Its so nice.

Things are so fragile.
Life is fragile beyond words description,
So I won't even try.
I feel fragile.
Frail, like an old lady.
A couple words can break me,
Bring me to my knees,
Begging for some love to sustain me.
Don't think its always been this way,
I used to be stronger,
Hope one day to be strong again,
But I don't know if its within sight.
Or even within reason.

The only thing I can do is pray. God please fill my cup, make me feel full. Plant the smile on my face with roots so deep it cannot be shaken. Plug me into your love socket. Give me the switch, then I can just turn it on. Let it shine, radiate, reach old friends, maybe someone new in need. Water me daily with the love liquid. Shine on me with your never ending light. Protect me from the wind and the storm with your shield, at least until I am strong again. Let my roots grow deep, and clinch to the bedrock. Let me tap into it, so that I may not be separated, no matter how strong the storm. God let me love. God let me be loved.