ON MY KNEES WITH FOLDED HANDS

On my knees, with folded hands,
I thank the Lord each day;
For when I think of life itself
It makes me want to pray.

Most of my friends are dead and gone;
You’ll find flowers where they lay.
I know that some of them,
To heaven found their way.

So many times I've looked up
To heaven in the night,
Asking answers from our Lord
Who's always in my sight.

Any day could be my last,
There's no time to fuss or fight.
There's just time to be loved.
Who cares who's wrong or right.

By Tom Zart