Poem in writing still...dealing with questions and answers people search for. |
Aging pastor, stationed before the throng, chanting a creed as the crowd drones along; portraying a bliss he can't quite believe, sensing within that the mass is naïve. Lonely criminal in a prison cell, praying to Christ as he's wandering hell; searching for meaning in this dismal place, hoping the Bible is his saving grace. Young mother of two, dying of cancer, telling her children God has an answer; "We'll be together in heaven again, just hold Mommy's hand and whisper Amen." Grieving teenager, whose friend passed away, cursing the god who created this day; begging for truth in a world full of lies, needing an answer, yet there's no reply. Wise, content man, lying on his death bed, smiling upon the life he has led; asking no queries, for he need not know - drawing his last breath, he lets it out slow. An aging pastor, directing the throng, recites a creed as the crowd drones along. He portrays a bliss he wants to believe but senses within the mass is naive. A lonely convict in a prison cell prays to Christ as he's wandering through hell; searching for meaning in this dismal place, he hopes that the Bible is his saving grace. A mother of two, dying of cancer, tells her young children God has an answer. "We'll be together in heaven again, just hold Mommy's hand and whisper Amen." A grieving teenager's friend passed away; he curses the god who brought on this day. He begs for truth in a world full of lies; needing an answer, he hears no reply. |