Fara

She worries if anyone sees her, and wonders about her feet, each step taken with care, if she feels love, she knows it’s not to keep, dreams of that place above, every prayer takes her there, bars are her sole conceit, terrible singers hard chairs, raised every night to shove, when morning she's green, gets dressed feels the rub, if heaven is a place to share, those depths of need, she'll have a go at getting there, a wooden place that's fair, not somewhere beat, perhaps with a communion air, it'll rescue everything.