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Rated: E · Poetry · Religious · #1742859
Short poem about being trapped.
Who, on earth, cares if all that life means
is a life span of hope and a sack of dried beans
that He told you would grow-- that was only a joke.
He'll watch you in shrieks, watch you silently choke.

In Heaven, who cares if all that death gives
is a sense of belonging-- that craving I missed
from the moment I woke to the moment I lay,
I spared not a moment of quickening delay...

To Hell, now! Who cares for an infected girl?
Watch my reactions to actions unfurl!
I'd hurt you for this if I knew what it was:
the sweaty enclosure of God's mighty glove.
© Copyright 2011 Rebecca (original4once at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1742859-Mighty-Glove