GOD
I guess I want to tell you something,
There's a bit of bliss in everything.
They don't tell you that in the place of your worship,
They told me God never blesses the one who has done wrong things.
But oh, I've seen them—seen them have every inch.
Do they really deserve it, or is my God not helping?
They tell me to have faith and everything in between.
My faith is not broken, it is still, it's standing.
Have I done something wrong—so wrong that He didn't bless me?
Certainly, I'm not the best soldier of my God.
But I care, and love, and try—that's odd.
I'm hustling, crawling, crying; they are sinning!
God, I have an objection. Am I winning?
I've lost it—lost me, is that it?
I'm Your child! You forgot? I've gone missing.
For once, look at me, God, it's hurting.
Oh help! I love You, my God, but it's not working.
Wait—still, I see it, there's a light outside, it's gleaming.
You're helping—I forgot, I was selfish.
I'm alive, I survived—oh, You were always there, just within.
But I want to ask You, for the thorns I have and they got roses.
You're the God, You made me—is that worth it?
I'm drowning on the land—what's happening?
I've had a soul, but how did I lose it?
I see them from afar, they are enjoying it.
They are calling us out for all the wrongs they did.
It's a blank page in front of me, I erased it.
I don't want to be so honest, I'm ending.
I'm a critic of my God, and I love it.
The sad song is ending—should I repeat it?
. SJ
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