If You Could

If you could hold pain inside of a cup
You would be able to see my heart

If you could paint the simple thought of love
Each stoke, with hope, would carry my dreams

As destiny falls in the hand of God
My life is then given unto death

With each story that bleeds, lost from my tongue
I find myself, deep within my breath

A mystery, a shadow of the place I dwell
Here lies truth, a pill that cures the pain

Yet, it’s in this pain where I find myself
Without it, anger would not exist; I would die

If you could hear the silence of my cry
You would know, to what, and how, my tears where fastened

Such subtle truths to rest upon in fear
An anguished heart wrenched by the weight of it’s passion

©james olmos 12/3/97

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