Heaven

Maybe it is a gift

When You don’t make things here

The way that we want

Because here is not the purpose

Or the goal

Our unrequited requests and desires

Refuse to make us whole

And instead point our eyes towards home

A home where all our troubles

Will be washed away

Our tears forgotten

No more dreams tattered and frayed

But all of our hopes finally realized

And our joy completed

On that fateful day

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