Well, father, I’ll tell you:
Life for me ain’t been no blank paper.
It’s had lines in it,
And marks,
And sides torn up,
And lines with no words left to write —
Gloomy.
But all the time
It’s been a long writing session,
And sloppy brainstorms,
And scars of pen ink,
And sometimes getting used to the grisly drawings
Where there ain’t been no beauty.
So father, don’t you stop blessing me from heaven. Don’t you shed a tear upon Earth
‘cause it’s your misery you couldn’t be here upon us.
Don’t you lose faith now —
For I’se still growin’,
And life for me ain’t been no blank paper.