My heart cries for you,
for I fear you may never know true love.
My heart aches for you,
for you could be so tender and so sweet.
Your laugh was like a bard's sweet song,
your caress a gentle summer breeze.
You were so bright and so full of cheer,
my heart would leap with joy when you were near.
Then you scorned me, and belittled me,
and you turned me away.
And like crystal, you made it clear,
nothing more should I say.
Yet my heart cries for you,
'tis sad you may never know true love.
My heart aches for you,
for you could be such fun, and quite the treat.
You were my friend, with whom I could chat;
the topic mattered not - it could be this or that.
You lightened my heart, you warmed my soul;
And when I was at odds, you made me feel whole.
Then you wounded me like no fighter ever would,
and you rent my heart like no sword ever could.
You lifted me up high into the clouds,
and then you threw me down upon the ground.
Still my heart cries for you,
for I fear you may never know true love.
My heart aches for you;
seeing you smile was such a delight.
Why did you hurt me? Why did you use me?
Why did you pull me close, then fling me away?
Was it because I am kind and gentle?
Willing to help all who but ask?
Was it because I didn't say this? or forgot to do that?
Was it because I am human, and must make mistakes?
Alas, I'll never know, for these questions I shan't pose.
For I fear that even if I did, you couldn't hear.
Always my heart will cry for you,
in my sleep, and when awake,
for you may never let love
fill your heart and fill your soul.
My heart cries for you.
And now 'tis time to weep.
Father Galvin, who art on Earth, hallowed be thy name.
Thy empire grow, thy profits flow, in SPS as they do in CE.
Give us, this day, products to embed,
And forgive us our faults, as we forgive our customers who
find fault with us.
Lead us not into bankruptcy, but deliver us from obscurity.
For yours is the empire, the hour and the 11th story,
Now and tomorrow.
Hail Motorola, full of space, the Ford is with you.
Favored art thou among suppliers,
and favored is the fruit of thy labors, wireless comms.
Wholly Motorola, well-spring of thought, prey on foes sinister,
Now, and at the hour of our success.
Prayers copyright 2000, Neal P. Murphy. All Rights Reserved.
"Heart Cries" copyright 2003, Neal P. Murphy. All Rights Reserved.