Somebody Prayed him Home

Looking up but not seeing the truth through the haze
of deception and lies, if I could only open my eyes
and be free from the flesh that wraps me up and holds my hand,
staining me with fingerprints and crime scene clues
and promising me anything but giving me blues,
driving down a newly paved road
that only covers the old potholes and years of abuse,
looks so easy to maneuver down that avenue,
a trek into lights that blind and confuse,
utilizing your fog lights to help you on your journey,
only to run into a traffic jam of so called friends and coworkers
who help clog the road to your final destiny.
not until you see a small opening, but can you make that turn,
it looks deserted barely traveled, an old county road,
but just like the interstate highways, will get the job done,
and avoiding the din and the pollution,
finally allowing you to travel quickly
and get where you didn’t know you were going... home to him