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Our Father
Not a knock on the door
Before he walks in at the usual time
We all wait by the table
There’s only one thing on our mind
He sets his shiny keys down
His grim look lowers our expectations
“What are we eating?”
My little brother asks innocently
We all look towards our father
He looks much older than 43
Not a word from our father
Before he sits down near my mother
We are gathered at an empty table
There’s no placemats set and no forks
But he tries to smile anyway
I can tell by his dark eyes
He’s faking it again
Says “We can eat what’s here”
I bite my tongue to keep from saying
There’s nothing here
It seems longer than a year been like this
Not a thought necessary
Before we bend our heads to pray
We join hands, we close our eyes
There’s only One we’re praying to
He looks down from heaven
With a smile on his face
“Hello again, children”
My Father says from his throne above
We all look towards our Father
He seems much closer than He really is
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