Can't you cry like I do?
I know you've got it in you,
to rend and not be mended,
run and not be rescued.

I'm closer now than ever,
to a peace I half remember,
though the years, and disappointments
in between, were hard to weather.

If the light to which I'm pressing
never lends the promised blessing,
tell the next man how you met me,
'cause the world has a way of forgetting.