Prayed on my knees..
Waited for you
to answer
My pleas..
But you didn't..
I know
I know..
Some answers
are not heard..
Have to wait.
And even when you answer
Might be too late.
I know
h a v e f a i t h..
I had faith when my family
was taken from me..
Faith when
I was beaten..
Crawling on bloody knees..
Faith when I was alone..
Faith when I was
on the floor..
Beating my fists
praying to you..
Just for the strength
to see me through..
Faith when I was
Blown off..
Thrown down..
Eaten alive
I n s i d e and o u t..
And I waited..
And I sang y o u r song..
Jesus loved
the little children
All the children
of the world..
But he didn't love me..
Bloody wrists
I hold up to the skies..
Asking my God
Why?
Suffer the children..
Filled with sin
Suffer the children..
No chance to win.
I hold my life up to you..
And pray
Father won't you
forgive me please..
I don't know
what I'm doing..
Now I give myself
back to you..
Back
to
you
I
am
going......
Gut-wrenching and heart-wrenching, it reminds me of a friend who lost her three children in a fire, I too hope it is not auto-biographical. Jackie <> <
Erica, This poem says so very much bout you and the FAITH and LOVE that you have sustained within you, you just do not realize it or are slowly are. Excellent write sweetie!
Reviewed by Lady Peg (Reader)
Reviewed on July 25, 2003
This my sweetie.
Spins and is thought provoking...
Excellent write.
PJ
Erica, there are some things that we will never understand while we're on this earth, yet God remains faithful and His words are true. Thank you for sharing this heart wrenching poem. Well done! (smile)
Oh Erica, please let this just be a great tragic poem! Whether it is or isn't my prayers will be with you. ~Z~
Reviewed by Glenna Cancilla (Reader)
Reviewed on July 25, 2003
Erica,
This is a very good write. One that bothered me a lot. I have been in the place you wrote about in this write. It shows up in my writing all the time. I hope this is just your way of venting.
Keep writing.
Glenna
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
(Self-published. Please contact author directly to order.)
Enter the pages of diaspora in quiet introspection. Bathe your thoughts with subtle humor; synchronize your spirit-sense with history-in-heat; fall headlong with eyes wide open into
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In Spirit,
Bear
I hope you are okay!!
love
Tinka
~Chrissie
Spins and is thought provoking...
Excellent write.
PJ
This is a very good write. One that bothered me a lot. I have been in the place you wrote about in this write. It shows up in my writing all the time. I hope this is just your way of venting.
Keep writing.
Glenna
William
-Michelle