Guess
I write the words which come into my head
And never think about what I will say
But follow with an open mind instead
As I watch my pencil find its own way
For me it is more interesting to
Just settle back and see what it will do
And because I am my words come out strange
But every word however strange is true
I read it and think maybe I should change
What has been written but I know by now
That only seems to make it worse somehow
What has been written I cannot erase
So I leave it and believe it to be
What I was meant to say in any case
Since it came from deep down inside of me
So many masks yet only this one face
This crisp autumn night this dark of the moon
Strange poetry is growing here tonight
I guess it is true I am missing you
With only these cold distant stars for light
I know you left me back in yesterday
But my heart will be touching your heart soon
You may not need me but you still read me
I guess that is what I was meant to say
+Steven Curtis Lance
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