K
The pain that I feel is too much to bear;
It rises and falls, and piles on my soul.
Please tell me, someone, does anyone care?
Please, help me, someone. I need one to hold.
I feel it welling up inside my heart;
It burns me like lava and smells like death.
It tells me I’m bad and pulls me apart.
It blinds me to real and makes my ears deaf.
Where should I put all this pain that I feel?
I will transfer it: My pain will be yours!
I will bury it: Then, it won’t be real!
I will ignore it and wait for a cure.
My hurt and hurt keeps on building inside.
It distorts my mind and then hides in that
Secret place, which is hidden from all eyes,
Telling me I’m ugly, stupid and fat.
The pain that I have is possessing me.
It gnaws at my inside and leaves a stain.
What must one do if one wants to be free?
Tell me, how can I have freedom from shame?
“They” say every life has a little rain.
Why is my little life brimming with pain?
“They” say “Press On! There is too much to gain!”
I say their cheers only hurt me again.
Please help the hurt that is building inside.
Help it or it will be anger and fear.
Will someone please just hear my silent cry?
Then I heard a voice, honest, true and near.
“Don’t cry, dear child. I will not let you fall.
I made you, and your pain I understand.
I, your Holy Father, have heard it all.
I hold your pain in the palm of my hand.”
It rises and falls, and piles on my soul.
Please tell me, someone, does anyone care?
Please, help me, someone. I need one to hold.
I feel it welling up inside my heart;
It burns me like lava and smells like death.
It tells me I’m bad and pulls me apart.
It blinds me to real and makes my ears deaf.
Where should I put all this pain that I feel?
I will transfer it: My pain will be yours!
I will bury it: Then, it won’t be real!
I will ignore it and wait for a cure.
My hurt and hurt keeps on building inside.
It distorts my mind and then hides in that
Secret place, which is hidden from all eyes,
Telling me I’m ugly, stupid and fat.
The pain that I have is possessing me.
It gnaws at my inside and leaves a stain.
What must one do if one wants to be free?
Tell me, how can I have freedom from shame?
“They” say every life has a little rain.
Why is my little life brimming with pain?
“They” say “Press On! There is too much to gain!”
I say their cheers only hurt me again.
Please help the hurt that is building inside.
Help it or it will be anger and fear.
Will someone please just hear my silent cry?
Then I heard a voice, honest, true and near.
“Don’t cry, dear child. I will not let you fall.
I made you, and your pain I understand.
I, your Holy Father, have heard it all.
I hold your pain in the palm of my hand.”