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I need to write 'Cause I can't hold this all inside I've recently realized

I'm not just a poet, but a poet with a mission When God made me he gave me vision

Blessed to make it, I survive Wish I could pay with love to fly To the disaster area underneath God's new angels in the sky My oh my

Oh my soul My soul feels like it could explode I need, NO I want to be there I would gather all the people I could possibly hold Hold them in my arms and never let go

Sing them songs of poetry Sing their tears away Yearning to pray I feel like dropping to my knees

I have no funds to send - My son, 5 years old Has offered his pennies to send

It's us poor Who wish we could pour Out our hearts of gold and strengh of steal To help them heal

. . . but instead we kneel