I don’t want to be your light
And I don’t want to be your grace
I want to be here when you cry
To wash the teardrops from your face

Somehow the words I meant to say
Got thrown around and tossed away
So I’m sitting with a poem on the tip of my tongue
Words not yet unfurled, but feeling already begun

And you can tell me that I’m lost
And I can stand here still alone
But I have my fingers crossed
And I know how to make it on my own