Too Much Bread
I often sit and ponder about life and it’s many woes. I wonder what the point is, and where each path may go. Now, the paths, those are our decisions, and where they end no mortal knows. Our father in heaven up above keeps a weary eye. And I think that it must pain him as he watches me by and by. I can’t quite seem to figure, this plan he’s made for me, which decisions are better than the rest, for me and my family. I try as I might and fight and fight to make a happy home, and what I get when it’s said and done is a great emptiness, feeling alone. There’s a sadness that I feel inside, and it’s digging a great big hole, one I think that’s meant for me, it’ll swallow all my joy, whole. There isn’t but a sliver left, and it causes me happiness and pain, for I know one day it’ll be too grown up and then it’ll move away. So I take that little sliver and it’s like butter over bread, but where once there was enough for loaves, there’s just enough for c