I’m that writer who touched them
with a good message that heals the broken heart.
You can’t hear it from my mouth,
but people said it all
by how I wrote it last time.
Some where full of tears, crying aloud,
I came with my mop script to clean the spirit.
Christ chose me to be that kind of a writer.
You can still make it in that shake,
never fail to pray.
Goodness, there is price to pay!
I’m that writer.
I’m giving you assurance
Don’t give up,
run without food in your stomach.
The Devil whispered, but God said it shall be,
grow like a plant next to a river.
I’m that writer!